


The White Wolf and A Stray Puppy

by killjoy_assbutt



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fanfiction, Friendship, Gen, Mention of other fandoms, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 30,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22446940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killjoy_assbutt/pseuds/killjoy_assbutt
Summary: "Ah, there we go. Don't worry, you are safe now. I will protect you, " his deep voice rumbled through my ears. Collecting all strength in my beaten body I lifted my gaze to look at my savior. But my vision would have none of that. The last thing I saw before drifting off into unconsciousness were a set of concerned golden eyes.__________________________________Warning: this story features graphic description of violence, gore as well as implied rape/ non-con and prostitution.Read with caution.___________________________________I own nothing but my character Nienna and her horse Vána (although the names belong to Tolkien).Also on Wattpad, same title, same usernamecompleted february 18 2020second part will follow once season 2 is out. (probably)
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 16
Kudos: 53





	1. Savior

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, i hope you liked it so far.  
> As mentioned in the description, i don't really know where to go with this story, so I'll update irregularly on this.  
>  ~Lisa

My screams of fear were the first thing he heard.

He was on his way to a small town that was rumored to be plagued by some kind of monster. Probably one or two miles, then he would reach it, and he could not wait to fall into a real bed after being on the road for so long. He wouldn't sleep though, it has been a problem as of late, he couldn't sleep. No matter how tired he was, now matter how exhausted, he couldn't seem to fall asleep.

He heard the screams again, full of fear and pain. He stopped his horse.

Next to the dusty road was nothing, on the right side there was grass, just tall grass for as far as his enhanced golden could see, lightly swaying in the breeze. On the left side though were trees - too scattered to be called a forest but too dense to be called "just a group of trees". And that was where the screaming came from. From deep inside the not-forest.

For all he knew the monster that was supposed to be hunting somewhere around here could be attacking its next victim, and wasn't that why he came here, after all? To rid the small town of the monster, and be awarded with coin in exchange? It was his job after all. Not the one he chose, but he has known nothing else.

So he dismounted his mare and made his way into the trees. The deeper he got, the louder became the screaming - a young girl he supposed. But there were also other voices; laughing, mocking voices.  
Soon enough he was close to the voices, so close that he could see what was going on.  
Two men were hitting and kicking a screaming - and by now sobbing - bundle of cloth in the grass.  
These men were not the type of monster he'd normally hunt, and they probably weren't the reason he came here, but they were still monsters, worse even than the ones he hunted, as they were human.

Monsters, the kinds of monster he hunted couldn't really control their actions, they acted out of instinct. Sire they were dangerous and killed people, but only because said people were invading the creatures' area.  
Humans on the other hand chose to act the way they act. They are the true beasts.

He decided to step in.  
"Hey, leave off!" These were the first words I heard from him. "Leave her alone!" yelled the same deep voice.  
"Why, she's a whore? It's not like she stops being one once she's out of town," said one man, while facing the newcomer. "Only difference is, we don't have to pay!" snickered the other.

I was still cowered on the ground, laying in fetal position and holding my head to protect me as much from the hits and kicks as I could. Since the man with the deep voice had spoken, the beating has stopped, and I was brave enough to lift my head a little and peek though my fingers. To no avail, as all three men stood behind my back and I would not dare to turn my head any further, let alone turn my body completely. I could see their shadows though, hard to distinguish from those of the trees, but clear enough to picture what was going on, the sounds coming from the men making it even easier.

The sound of metal dragging over metal startled me and i cowered my head back into the protective embrace of my hands. It sounded like a sword being pulled from its sheath. Oh gods, what is happening??

"I won't ask again. Leave, and I won't use this," the deep voice spoke again - though gritted teeth this time. Even thought I knew he was defending me, or at least I hoped so - it scared me.

The intimidation seemed to work on my assaulters as well, as i heard two pairs of feet distancing from me - too slow to be called running but yet too fast to be simply described as walking. The footsteps were accompanied by the men's muttering, "next time she won't have a man to come and save her," and "that lucky whore," were just some of the things I heard before their voices faded in the distance.

Now that the adrenaline wore off I felt each end every spot on my body that they had kicked or hit. Thanks to the deep-voiced stranger they were not able to beat me into submission and have their way with me. But it wouldn't have taken much more, I could already feel my vision fading. I heard another pair of feet running towards me now, making their way around me and coming to a stop in front of my cowering frame.

I was surely crying by now, but if I did I couldn't feel it. I could only feel the pain that my shaking body had to endure.  
Peeking through my fingers I saw the stranger kneeling down in front of me, not directly in front of my face, as if not to scare me. I saw a hand slowly reaching for mine, that were still hiding my face from his sight. 

"Don't be frightened, girl. If I was to hurt you, I would have done it by now. " 

How reassuring... 

His hand came to a halt only a few inches before my own, waiting for me to lower them by myself. I did as I was expected to, cautiously, and cast my eyes downward, not looking at the stranger. To be honest, by now my vision was fading on and off, so that I could not focus on anything, even if I wanted to. 

The stanger lowered himself a little more. "Ah, there we go. Don't worry, you are safe now. I will protect you, " his deep voice rumbled through my ears. Collecting all strength in my beaten body I lifted my gaze to look at my savior. But my vision would have none of that. The last thing I saw before drifting off into unconsciousness were a set of concerned golden eyes.


	2. First Meeting

I woke up to the soft cracking of a fire. Weak and hurting I opened my eyes. As my vision focused I was met with the all too familiar wooden ceiling of the town's inn.

Fuck. That bastard brought me back to the place I had risked my life to run from.

"Thank the gods, you're awake!"

I turned my head slowly to my right to see the man who had saved me sitting next to the bed he had lied me down in. Golden eyes looked at me, waiting for a reaction. Just that I could not show him one, I was too perplexed too react to anything.  
After hearing the deep voice of my savior I was not sure what to expect, but what i saw now was exeeding my expectations by far.  
That man was straight down gorgeous. Long silver-white hair, pale skin, those glowing golden eyes and the facial bone structure of a god.

I was speechless for a lot of reasons, but his looks were definitely one of them. Another being that my mouth was dry and my throat sore from screaming.

"Water, " I croaked out, barely audible, but he heard it. When he stood up to get a cup he revealed his full height, and man was he tall. That and the black leather armor he was wearing intimidated me a little, to be honest. He turned again and was about to hand me the cup, when he stopped to stare at me, thinking. What was he upto now?  
He set the cup down again, stepped as close to the bed as he could and reached down for me. He helped me sit up, handed me the cup but left a hand on it, assisting me in drinking from it. I was still so weak, without his help, I don't know if I would have even managed to grab the cup, but I am certain that I would have spilled all the water.

"Thank you," I weakly smiled. The man smiled back, only slightly, but it was enough to make him less intimidating.

After a few quiet moments he spoke up. "What was a young girl like you doing all alone on the road?" So he knew that I was running away, huh?

I stayed quiet for a few seconds, looking at him, trying to figure out if I could trust him. After all he'd done for me since he heard my scream I decided to trust the white-haired man before me. 

"I-I was r-running from here."

He probably had that figured out by now, but it was all I could tell him without telling him the story of my life.  
He just nodded. 

"What is your name?" 

Thankful that he did not press any further I answered,  
"Nienna. Why did you help me?" 

Silence.  
Now he seemed to be the one in thought. Then came a short answer as if it was obvious , "I heard you scream."

That is when a glint of silver caught my eye. It was his necklace, or more the pendant. A wolve with bared fangs. I had heard stories of people wearing these pendants, and most of those stories ended bloody. 

"You're a Witcher," I blurted out before I could stop myself, "but you don't seem like a Witcher to me."

"And why is that?"

"A Witcher would have killed the men. A Witcher wouldn't even have come to help me in the first place. And a Witcher most definatly wouldn't have brought me with him to take care of me. But you are different." I concluded. 

No answer came from him, just a deep "hmm" that sounded almost like a growl. 

Then he stood up and went to the door. At first I thought he was going to leave me, but he bent down and reached for a big bag seated on the wall right next to the door. It had two swordhandles peeking out, but they were not what he was after. When he turned he held some cloth in his hand, almost like a bandage. He walked over to the fireplace, put the cloth into a bowl he had put there before I woke up, and poured boiling water over it, which he probably also set over the fire before i woke. 

"If you let me, I will have a look at your wounds now, your dress had a good amount of blood on it when i found you."

I said nothing, just waited for him to look at me, as je was still facing the fire. When he turned to search my face for an answer I nodded.  
He then walked over to me and sat back down on the chair he was sitting on when i woke up. He helped me lay down again. Just before he lifted the blanket he looked at me. "Can I?" I just nodded. To my surprise I was still dressed. From my previous life I was used to wake up naked, this now was so much better. 

He lifted the hem of my dirty and damaged dress up to my knees and ran the warm cloth over me bruised legs. I hissed in pain at the pressure, even though he was trying his best to be careful. He continued to my thighs, but as they were hidden from the assault earlier, they were barely bruised. When he reached my stomach though he was met with a shallow cut, maybe three inches long. It was healing but still red and angry. He frowned. "Who did this to you?", I gulped, O preferred not to tell him, or anyone for that matter, but I felt like I had to. "A costumer."  
I tried to stay as vague as possible, i didn't want him to know what I was, at least not yet. He was so nice to me, in fact, he was the first person in a very long time that was nice to me, and I was not sure if that would change if he knew what exactly I was running from.  
He just nodded at my answer, and with an acknowledging "hmm" started to clean the wound.  
I bit my lip to stop myself from hissing at the hot, wet fabric touching the sensitive, torn skin around the cut. To no use though. I hissed and the Witcher looked at me apologetically, when I noticed something. 

"You never told me your name." 

Without looking up from my wound he answered, "Geralt of Rivia"

I knew that name, I just couldn't remember where I last heard it. Then it dawned on me, "You're the Butcher of Blaviken", I gasped. He didn't look up, but I still saw his expression harden. He didn't like that title. 

"I'm sorry," I whisper, hoping he would accept my weak apology, "I-I, I didn't mean to..." 

He looked up at me, expression still hard until he saw my face, regret written all over it. His expression softened.  
"It's alright, I get called things that are way worse," he said with a sad smile. 

I felt sorry for him, his life is probably way worse than mine, and he can't run away from it. 

He finished tending to my wound and got up. When I looked at him questioningly he explained, "I came here for a reason, somewhere out here is a monster that I'm going to hunt. I'll be back the morning after tomorrow, latest. Rest, Nienna, you need it." 

And with that I closed my eyes, obeying to Geralt's wish. I heard how he picked up the bag with his swords and put it onto his back, the handles banging together. He opened the door and left. I concentrated on my savior's heavy footsteps down the hallway until they faded away, lulling me into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that is the second part of the story, I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know if I made any mistakes, so I can correct them.  
> Until then, byeee👋🏻  
>  ~Lisa


	3. Alone Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little shorter, but I will probably upload the next chapter tonight as well. 
> 
> And ohhhh, things are getting suspicious. What was it exactly that Nienna ran from?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short Author's note:
> 
> Hello👋🏻
> 
> I just want to say that I don't know much about the Witcher's world exept the Netflix series. And because this is primarily a story that I imagine for myself to help me fall asleep I probably won't do much research. I will tho mention a few things here and there from other fandoms that deal with supernatural beings (I'm thinking of LotR and Supernatural for example, as these are my other top fandoms)...   
> This is my story, and if you don't like it I must kindly ask you to simply not read it instead of criticizing me (this did not happen yet, just letting y'all know). If you do like my story then I love you, you are great.   
> Constructive criticism is always welcome. Hmm... What else??
> 
> Yup, that's it. Until then, byeee   
> ~Lisa

When I woke up again I was alone. Looking to the small window and listening for sounds coming from the inn's tavern I guessed it was early morning. The sky was pitch black and the inn was dead silent.  
I rolled over and tried to fall asleep again, but to no avail. I felt as if I have slept for days - extremely tired but unable to sleep. I had to ask Geralt about that once he returned.

Geralt of Rivia - I don't know what to make of him. I heard all these stories about witchers, that they were brutal killing machines with heightened senses and abnormal long life, but without the ability to feel any emotion. But he was so different.   
I also heard what my savior did in Blaviken, but to be fair, most people I heard said that the witcher was not the first one to attack.  
But he was just different. He could have killed the men who assaulted me with ease, probably even with his bare hands. He could have killed me for crying out loud. Or he could have just ignored my screams and never save me in the first place. But he didn't do any of that.  
He decided to help me.  
He cared. He must care, otherwise I would not be waiting in this room for him to return. 

I couldn't help but wonder where he was now, what he was doing.  
Did he find out what was plaguing our town? Had he already found the monster? Was he currently fighting it? Or did he already kill it? 

All these questions made it entirely impossible to go to sleep again, so, ripping me out of my pondering I decided that I needed to drink. My head was hurting from dehydration and my throat was extremely dry.   
I was used to slight dehydration, as we never got enough to drink, but this was a whole new level. I still don't know for how I've been unconscious and asleep, but probably for days. I just knew that thanks to the lack of water on my body it has decided to work against me. 

Getting up to find a cup of water I grew dizzy and black dots appeared in my vision.   
All I could think was that I needed to drink, and if i didn't want to pass out, which I would, I needed it now! 

Stumbling I found the small table with the jug of water sitting on it, the dying fire being the only source of light in the dark room.  
I drank. Almost emptied the entire jug, which could hold at least two liters.   
Even with my stomach now filled with water my body was still screaming for the clear liquid. In an attempt to search for more I opened the door that led to the small washroom, and to my luck, sitting there was a bathtub filled with water.   
The witcher must have had prepared this and never got the chance to use it. Now the water was cold, but I still decided to get in.   
I must stink from not having washed in at least three days, plus the sweat from the light fever I had developed over night.   
The water was cold, just as I thought, but it was still warmer than the small pond I had found together with my father when he was still alive. I had tried to visit this place of happy memories as often as I could, but me and tje other girls weren't allowed to leave the house often.   
Escaping from that place, that hellhole - I had planned it for months! And now I'm back in this town that took everything from me. I just hope, no, I pray to the gods that Geralt returns before my master finds me. Knowing the inn's maids it won't be long until he knows where I am. If I am alone when that happens I can only hope for a quick death.


	4. Saved, again

Deep in thought I let my body soak in the cold water. It was soothing against my fever-warm skin and the dark bruises that littered my body, some from the attack, some from days before. The cut on my stomach hurt and it was swollen and red, probably infected, most likely the reason for my light fever.  
I stayed in the water for what felt like hours, just relaxing and cooling my body down. The cold water also clearing my mind.

As soon as the witcher returned from his hunt I would tell him everything about my past, and try to convince him to leave this shitty town as fast as possible, taking me with him. Even his monster-hunting life would be safer for me than staying in this town for longer than necessary.

I got out of the tub eventually, dried myself off and contemplated what to do next.

The sun had already started to rise, its first rays lighting up the horizon in a mix of purple, orange and pink.  
I smiled, it's been long since I was able to enjoy the sunrise.  
For the past six years sunrise had meant preparing to work, the first costumers would come shortly after breakfast. I shudder at that thought.

Or I just shuddered because I was fucking cold. The cold water had cooled my body down more than I intended.

Finally knowing what I should do I took some logs of wood from the basket next to the fireplace and tried to revive the fire, which was miraculously still on, the ash glowing red. Once the flame was big enough to not be blown out my the slightest movement of air I grabbed the blanket off the bed, wrapped it around me and layed down in front of the fire. Dozing off while staring into the fire the color of the dancing flames reminded me of the eyes of my savior. Wondering when he'd return I fell asleep.

***

I woke up to the thump of something soft but heavy hitting the ground. Startled I opened my eyes just to find myself back on the bed and the witcher standing next to it, currently ridding himself of his black leather armor.

"Thank you," I whispered, for what I don't really know. For putting me back on the bed? For saving me?

Realizing I was awake, Geralt turned his head and smiled at me ever so slightly. But that smile quickly faded as he heard something from outside the door, too quiet for my ears to hear.  
He positioned himself protectively in front of the bed, sword within reach, as the door burst open.  
I quickly covered my head with the blanket, not wanting to see the person who just came in.

"Where is she?!" hollered that voice that made my stomach turn.

"Where is that whore? I know you're hiding her, witcher! Either pay for her or give her back!" My master kept on yelling, while Geralt just stood there calmly, giving me enough confidence to peek out from under the blanket, careful not to be noticed by that ugly, fat man that turned red whenever something was only slightly exhausting, who I called my master for the last six years.

Finally the witcher spoke. "Let. Her. Go." came a low growl from the tall man with the golden eyes. A threat.

"I will not. She is my own. I baught her! She will come with me and pay for running away." came the hysterical answer of the fat man.

"And how exactly will that payment look like?" asked the witcher, clearly challenging my keeper.

"She will get what she deserves. A rope around her neck."

"So, you will not let her go, but if I give her back to you, you'll hang her?" scoffed the witcher. "How much for her freedom?"

"She's a whore, she doesn't have any 'freedom'. Pay for her or hand her to me", replied my master.

"How much for her then?" Geralt asked calmly, having the upper hand in this. Even without his armor that added to his size he was a huge man, and the blood of the freshly killed monster still all over him made him at least ten times more intimidating.

"100," came the quick reply.

"50" said the witcher with a low growl. 

"85"

"50"

"65"

"50"

"60"

"40"

"45, " said my master.  
The witcher grunted. "Deal."

He gave my former keeper the coin and stared him down until the short man fled from the room, slamming the door shut as he left. After the hurried footsteps disappeared out of Geralt's earshot he turned to me.

"I'm gonna take a bath. And after that you're gonna tell my what that was all about. Understood?"  
I nodded. Then, when he stepped into the washroom I remenbered. "About your bath... Uhm, I hope you don't mind that I used the water." I said quietly, scared of how he might react.

He half-turned to look at me, expression unreadable. "I knew you would. Before I came up here I orderes hot water, it should arrive soon. Enough time for you to get dressed."  
For me to ge- nah fuck. I forgot to put on my dress after my bath.  
The witcher threw me my dress, that he picked up from the washroom floor.  
"You're gonna need a new one, this is all ripped," he commented. With that he closed the washroom door, leaving me alone to get dressed.  
I heard splashing from that room. He was emptying the tub, pouring bucket after bucket out of the window. I giggled to myself. Maybe he didn't care that much.

Soon enough three maids came in, each carrying two buckets of steaming hot water. Geralt opened the washroom door for them stepping outside to let them pour the water into the tub. His muscular chest and arms were littered with scars. Big ones, small ones, flat ones and those that look like a relief (A.N.: the pictures chiseled in stone). While other women would find this insanely hot, all I could think was how sorry I was for him. Sure, he had the body of a god, but all these scars... Behind each of them was a sad and painful story.

The maids came out of the washroom, each of them taking a good long look at the handsome, half naked witcher, before shooting me a dirty look and finally leaving.

"Enjoy your bath," I said to the witcher as he made his way towards the steaming tub. With an awknowleding nod of his head and a small smile on his lips he closed to door.

A few minutes later there was knock on the door. I went to open it and there were two maids again one of them holding two plates of freshly baked bread and few pieces of cheese, and the other with two jugs, one filled with ale, the other with water. "Another order for the witcher," the one to enter the room first said. Nodding I pointed them over to the table, where they set down the food and the drinks and looked at me expectantly.   
"It's already payed," came the witcher's loud rumbling voice. He must have sensed the impatience of the maids. They left without saying anything else, and closed the door behind them.

That was when I realized how hungry I was. The last time I ate was the noon when I escaped, days ago. But being the good girl my father had raised I knocked on the washroom's door first, holding a pint of ale. The witcher took it gladly. "You know, you can eat. You don't have to wait for anything. I'm sorry that I didn't think about that earlier. You must be starving."

And with that i turned, took a plate and sat on the bed to nibble on the bread. I left the door open on purpose, so none of us had to eat or drink alone. We sat in silence for a long time, until it started to become dark outside, making me realize how tired I had become.   
I put the plate back on the table, having barely touched the cheese, not because I didn't like it, but because I didn't know I my starved stomach could take the fat. I put the pieces of cheese on the other plate, my way of saying 'thank you'. In my life food has always been rare, so sharing food was one of the biggest gestures for me. I know that the man had still payed for the food, but something told me that he would understand my gesture nonetheless.

After what happened today I desperately needed sleep, no matter how much I had slept the days before.  
I cuddled up in bed, feeling safe in the presence of the witcher, who, for the second time in just a few days, had saved me from certain death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nienna's story will be in the next chapter. Stay tuned.


	5. When I Was Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geralt finally learns about Nienna's past.
> 
> Warning: mentions of non con/rape, underage sex, death of parents. Read with caution

The dipping of the mattress and the soft creaking of the wooden bed woke me up.  
I turned to see the witcher lying in next to me, thankful to see he had put his pants and shirt back on. The thought of having to share the bed with a naked man again - even though this man had been nothing but nice to me - after just escaping from my life as a whore made my stomach turn as waves of uneasiness washed over me. He must have suspected as much, as he was trying his best to keep his distance from me. Easier said than done with his large frame and the, even though made for two people, small bed.  
He also showed no intention getting me to share the blanket.  
He was just laying there, on his back, one hand behind has head, the other on his stomach. 

I felt bad for having all the blankets, but I didn't want to tell him that.  
So instead I waited for Geralt to fall asleep. When I thought he was sleeping I slowly moved closer to the witcher, covering us both with the blanket and carefully laying my head on his chest. I felt his hand that was previously resting behind his head fall to my waist, holding me in a protective embrace, content sigh leaving his lips. 

Minutes passed, maybe hours, but I couldn't seem to fall asleep. Even though I felt safe in the witcher's arms the thought of being so close to him made me nervous. Maybe it was because he owned me now and I had no idea what he was going to do with me. 

"Will you tell me what this was all about today?" came a rough but kind of also soft whisper from above my head. So he was still awake. 

Hesitant at first I lifted my head to look at him, then put my head back on his chest, my fingers playing with the buttons of his black shirt.  
"You don't have to, though," he added. I shook my head lightly and prepared myself to tell him the whole sad story of my life. 

"My parents and I lived in a small cottage at the edge of town. My father was a hunter. My mother died when I was five, she, uhm," I took a deep breath, the memory still huting. "she died giving birth to my younger brother, he was a dead born.  
After that my father concentrated more and more on hunting, doing his best to sell whatever he shot. He also taught me a little bit of archery. 

One spring, when I was thirteen, he was attacked by a wild boar. He barely escaped, with deep bite wounds on his legs and arms. At first they healed just fine, but after three days, they became infected.  
My father realized that he couldn't take care of me anymore and sold my to the towns whore house, hoping that they'd feed and house me there until he got better. But the medicine he bought from the coin he got for me didn't work, and he died, five days later.  
Since then I've been treated like dirt. I didn't have to work until I was fourteen, but on the day I turned fourteen I was forced to become a whore. For the past seven years I've been sold to men who hit me and practically raped me." By now I was full on crying, soaking the witcher's shirt with my tears. Geralt was drawing soothing circles on my back, with is large hand, listening silently. And I was thankful for that. He didn't judge me, he was just listening. 

"Day in, day out, sometimes more that six man in one day. And what did we get out of that? The other girls and me, we were not allowed to go outside, we had only little to eat and to drink; one small loaf of bread and two liters of water had to suffice for a week.  
And the men that came in... They hit us when they weren't satisfied, or worse. That cut on my stomach, I got it the day before I escaped. The man had cut me because I didn't 'moan loud enough'. 

Getting out of there took months of planning, and I still didn't get far.  
If not for you I'd be dead. Twice.  
Thank you."

I could feel my story had touched him, as his hand on my back had stopped moving, went back to my waist and held me tight. His other hand that was previously resting on his stomach now held my shoulder. He was keeping me safe. But why? Why did he care so much? 

"Why? Why did you save me? Why do you let me stay with you? And why did you buy me from my keeper?" I inquired.

Silence.

After a deep breath came the answer. "I wanted to save a girl once, from a situation she was brought in by men abusing their power, similar to your situation. Just that she decided that the situation she was in made jer a monster. I couldn't save her, as much as I wanted to. But when I heard you that day, I wanted to save you, thinking ot would make the guilt weigh a little less."

" What happened to her? The girl?" I asked, but already knowing the answer, she was dead. 

"I," the strong witcher's voice broke a little. "killed her." 

I felt bad for him. All he was did was trying to help people, and all they do is insult him and worse.  
The girl he told me about, I think it was the girl he killed in Blaviken. The princess he couldn't save. 

"What will you do with me now, now that you own me?" I asked after a moment of silence, dreading the worst.  
His thumbs were slowly rubbing my shoulder and side. 

"Hmm. You're free. You're not mine. I bought your freedom, not you. You can go wherever you want. Or you can stay with me. I don't know what would be safer for you, though: a former whore traveling alone, or together with a witcher, making a living in killing monsters."

Even though he would never admit it, I could hear hope in his voice that I'd choose to stay with him. He wanted a proof that I was alive; that he had managed to save at least one girl that was a victim of her situation. 

"You know," he interrupted my thoughts. "sometimes a little help could be useful. And you know how to handle a bow. If you want I can show you how you can defend yourself, and then you can decide if you want to stay with me or not. How does that sound?" 

I hummed in agreement, the rubbing of his thumbs, which he had never stopped, lulling me into sleep. "I'd like that," I said with a yawn, finally surrendering to the tiredness. I rested my head on his chest and cuddled myself to his warm body, careful not to pull the blanket off him in the process  
"Good night, Geralt," I whispered. 

"Good night, Nienna," the witcher answered, but I didn't hear it, I was already asleep in his tight, protective embrace. 

Unknown to me, he fell asleep, and for the first time in weeks slept through the whole night.


	6. A New Life Begins

For the first time in years I slept without having nightmares from which I couldn't wake up. For the first time in years I didn't wake up drenched in sweat. For the first time in years I woke up and felt rested. 

I woke up still in the witcher's embrace. Slowly I lifted my head to look at him, to see if he was still sleeping. He wasn't. Instead he was watching me. Smiling slightly he answered the question that was written over my face: 'why didn't you wake me up?'.   
"You looked so at peace. I didn't want to wake you."   
I smiled at him, sitting up slightly, "Thank you for that, really. It been a while since I slept that good."  
Geralt nodded, as if he was saying 'same for me'. 

We got up, the witcher got dressed completely, putting on his leather armor and packed his stuff in his bag.   
I on the other hand didn't have anything exept the clothes on my body - underwear and my torn and dirty dress - to call my own. In fact, I owned nothing more. No clothes, no trinkets from when I still lived with my father, nothing. 

Sitting down on the bed and waiting for Geralt to finish packing up, I stared at my bare feet. I certainly wouldn't be abel to keep up with the tall man when every step hurt from all the tiny pebbles that lay on the road. 

I noticed the witcher's movements had stopped and looked up just to see him staring at me intently.   
"You can't leave like that. We're gonna need to get you some clothes, or shoes at least."

Taking one last look at me, he left.   
Maybe fifteen minutes later he returned, carrying a pair of brown lace up leather boots and a big piece of dusty blue fabric. He actually went out and bought clothes for me?! How did I deserve to meet this man? Witchers don't feel my ass. Geralt was by far the most compassionate man I've ever met.

"I hope they're your size," he offered after a while of me just staring at him in disbelief.

He handed me the clothes and I got dressed, slipping the new dress over the dress that I was wearing, which was to be honest a chemise. The gods forbid a whore wearing a real dress. No an underdress had to suffice.

The dress and boots fit perfectly. And I tried to thank Geralt for it, but he would have non of it, mumbling something about it being 'only right for him to help me out', as if he didn't do exactly this ever since we met, and never stopped.

Once we left the inn, he led me to the stables where a beautiful sorrel horse peeked up at the witcher's footsteps approaching.  
"Nienna, this is Roach," Geralt said, stoking the mare's nose softly.

"Hello, beautiful," I cooed at the horse, slowly reaching out to pet the beautiful animal in front of me. Her nose was warm and soft and she puffed softly at my touch. Then she lifted her head and licked the palm of my hand. The golden-eyed man beside me chuckled.   
"She likes you."

I smiled at both of them, happy to finally be accepted by somebody; and internally I was ready to call this man and this horse my new family.

***

We left the town, and I left my past behind, finally.  
I didn't know where we were going, but Geralt for sure knew and that was enough for me. We walked along the road that he had taken to enter the town and I involuntary stared at the patch of trees where my life was forever changed. Part of me was still terrified of what had happened there, another part felt strong, because I finally escaped.

"Next thing were gonna do when I made enough coin is get you a horse of your own, and some weapons." The deep voice ripped me out of me thoughts.  
I was becoming annoyed at him keeping buying things for me. Not because I didn't like that he bought stuff for me, actually it was nice to have someone care for you. No, I was starting to feel bad because I couldn't pay him back.  
"You don't have to," I whispered. "You don't have to spend your hard earned coin on me, just because I'm some lost puppy that has nothing. I can’t give you anything."

He stopped walking and looked at me, eyebrows raised in disbelief.  
"That's what it's all about? You worry about repaying me?   
Listen, Nienna, right now you need my help. You need the coin more than I do, okay. Once you're earning your own, I will stop. But until then accept my help.   
And besides, your presence is enough repayment; last night was the first night in a long time that I slept."

I stood there, not believing what he just said to me. "Sorry," I offered. "I guess I'm not used to people being nice to me only in the slightest way without wanting something in return." I smiled sadly, remembering all the times that other girls offered me some of their already tiny breakfast, asking me to take their costumers, so that they could have the day off. And my little, naive mind fell for that at least five times. 

We kept walking, only stopping to eat or drink what Geralt had packed in Roach's saddle bags. The fields and collection of trees had soon turned into a forest. Once it grew dark there was no end in sight. We would have to sleep in the forest tonight. I looked at the witcher unsure, I had never slept in the wild.   
Geralt chuckled. "Don't worry, it's not that bad. And I'm right next to you, should you get scared." 

We found a little clearing not too far from the road where Geralt decided that this would be our bed for tonight.   
While he was freeing Roach from her saddle and bridle - gosh, did the man trust this horse - I was collecting wood to make us a small fire, something I had learned from my father, in what felt like another life. 

We settled down in front of the fire, quietly eating our dinner, bread and grilled sausages, that we had bought in town before we left.

My feet hurt a little not used to walking for the whole day. Honestly, my whole body wasn't used to walking that long. I was exhausted and tired. 

"By tomorrow we should have reached the next town. We'll buy you a bow and arrows there and then we can see further.  
I could teach you a little hand to hand combat if you want to. How about we start now?" he asked, turning his head towards me just as was yawning. The white-haired man chuckled. "Or we'll go to sleep now." I just hummed in agreement, my eyelids heavy. 

We settled down next to the fire like we had last night, Geralt laying on his back, holding me close, as I used his chest as pillow. The tall grass of the clearing was soft beneath our tired bodies, so much softer than I had imagined.  
He was right, sleeping in the wild wasn't that bad. In fact, it was quite nice. No moans coming from the other rooms of the inn, no yelling and laughter from the tavern; just the wind in the trees, noctural birds chirping and the inhumane slow heartbeat of the witcher just beneath my ear. All these sounds lulled me into a dreamless but confortable sleep.


	7. The Man With Bread In His Pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time skip and a little summary of Nienna's life sice she joined Geralt in his travels through the Continent. They also meet a young bard who simply wont leave them alone.
> 
> Enjoy! : )

Over the next two years Geralt taught me everything I needed to know to survive on my own in the wild. Though, I had no intention to leave his side any time soon. Two hunters meant more coin and we were a good team during the hunts, I kept my distance and shot arrows at the monsters and he killed the already wounded and weakened beasts with his sword.

A little more recently, about half a year ago, I had picked up sword-fighting after years of only using bow and arrow, and the occasional dagger in hand-to-hand combat. Using a sword was harder, the weapon was heavy and it took me a while to get used to it. It looked so damn easy when Geralt handled his sword, as if the sword weighed nothing to him. And it probably didn't, considering the muscles that man had.  
Because of my muscles, or more the lack of them I settled on a light sword, made to be used with one hand, not with two like the witcher's, and it worked. After training on my fighting skills every day in the past six months I wielded my sword like it was an extention of my arm.

"Good," came the praise from my experienced teacher, our swords clashing. "Very good. But you need to stay focused. Don't let your opponent distract you." And with that he disarmed me, backed me up to a tree and held his blade to my neck. "You're dead." he said.

We've been training for hours and I was getting sloppy from exhaustion, not distraction.  
"Can we take a break?" I panted, pushing myself off the tree and picked up my sword.  
I went over to the small river next to our camp and washed off the sweat from my face and neck. Then I cupped my hands and drank, the cool water reviving my sore body.  
I know that I chose to practice sword-fighting and I know that Geralt only meant good when he put me through long training sessions, but sometimes I think he forgets that he's the only mutant. Sometimes he'd fight me for hours, every hit of his sword harder than the one before, while I was struggling to stay on my feet from exhaustion.

I had also gotten an own horse. Vána I called her. I had bought her from my first coin I earned one and a half years ago, and we've been inseparable since then; much like our traveling companions.  
Vána was a beautiful chestnut colored mare with a soft snout, beautiful eyes and a love for apples. She was a calm horse, much like Roach. The two of them got along perfectly, I guess they were both happy to have at least a small herd. When we were resting, they would cuddle, much like they did now.

We were on our way to Posada, rumor had it there was a devil stealing from the townsfolk. In a few days we would be there. For now we would rest, eat and sleep before getting back on the road tomorrow.

***  
Once we had packed up all our stuff we made our way to our next job. We rode in comfortable silence, the scenery around us changing more and more from dense forest to tall fields of grass and grain. We kept that up until it grew dark, rested for the night and resumed our way in the morning. This went on for three days until we finally reached our destination, a tavern in the mountains.

Geralt and I tied our horses to a pole outside the town and made our way over the long suspension bridge towards the tavern.

Once inside we found a table far in the corner of the large room. It was easy watch out for any suspicious people from this place.  
I didn't feel like sitting after having to sit on a horse for three days, so, while Geralt sat down on the bench, I leaned against the wall next to him, my dark clothes making me almost melting into the shadow.

The loud singing of a bard caught my attention while the grumpy witcher was trying his best to ignore him. It amused me to see the white-haired man annoyed at something as insignificant as the bard's song about monsters that didn't exist. I had to bite back a giggle if I wanted to survive the day.

The singing had stopped and was replaced by loud booing of the tavern's guests. They threw their food at the bard, whick he collected and shoved into his pants.

'Well, that's one way of dealing with criticism' I smiled to myself.

I was watching the kid from my place in the shadows when he spotted Geralt and came over.  
The young bard leaned against a wooden pole close to where I was standing, clearly not noticing me, as he was way to concentrated on the witcher, who on the other hand still tried his best to ignore the kid.

"I love the way you just... sit in the corner and brood."

"I'm here to drink alone," the witcher muttered, moving his head away from the bard ever so slightly and towards the window, deliberately not mentioning my presence.

"Good. Yeah, good," came the bards answer, showing no intention to leave. "No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance, exept..." he added, walking around the table to stand in front of the obviously annoyed witcher. "for you. Come on. You don't wanna keep a man with... bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me. Three words or less," the kid said, sitting down at the table.

"They don't exist," the white-haired man deadpanned. This seemingly wasn't enough of an answer for the young bard, beacuse after a second of confusion he asked, "What don't exist?" dragging out the 'what'.

"The creatures in your song," replied Geralt, becoming more annoyed by the second.

The bard most certainly had no idea who he was talking to. "And how would you know?" he asked cockily.

The annoyed witcher didn't answer, he just kept looking at the kid, annoyed, tilting his head to the side slightly like a quiet 'dude,are you blind?'.

Watching the scene was the most fun I had in a while, and I had to collect all my strength to not burst out laughing. It was hard, but I waited for the perfect moment to reveal myself; and that thought kept me quiet.

Just then realization dawned on the bards face. "Oh,fun. White hair, big old loner, two very, very scary looking swords," he said, rubbing his palms together.

Geralt obviosly had enough. he got up and left a few coins on the table. "I know who you are," my travel companion left the table while I still reamined in the shadows, and as the bard followed him, I slowly and quietly followed the bard. "You're the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia." And after a short break he called out "Called it."

While Geralt was takling to a townsman at the entrance of the tavern I finally decided to reveal myself to the bard. Silently snickering to myself I stepped up behind the young bard, patted his shoulder casually. "Better luck next time, kid," I told him while walking past him towards the exit, leaving behind a startled bard, cluching his chest.

I walked past the witcher and over the bridge to untie or horses, laughing the whole way. once Geralt arrived he told me about the new job. I mounted Vána, while the witcher walked next to Roach.

I didn't expect the bard to catch up on us - for all I knew he could have died of a heartattack after my little prank - but there he was, following us.

"Need a hand? I got two. One for -ah- each of the devil's horns." he panted at our fast pace.

"Go away," said the witcher, annoyed yet again. I snickered quietly, earning a glare from the kid. I wanted to stick my tongue out at him, but decided to simply shoot him a playful glare in return.

Concentrating on Geralt again he said, "I won't be but silent back-up." Silence. "Look, I heard your note, and, yes, you're right, maybe real adventures would make better stories. And you, sir, smell chock-full of them. Amongst other things. I mean, what is that? That onion?" Well, sorry, but onion is the only spice available in the wild... "It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, you smell of of death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak."

"It's onion," the grumpy man replied, and I lost it, I was giggling on my horse's back behind the two of them.

"Right, yeah. Yeah," the kid muttered. "Ooh, I could be your barker, spreading the tales of Geralt of Rivia, the- the Butcher of Blaviken." Oh uh, Geralt didn't like being called that, the guilt still heavy on him.

He stopped and turned around to face the bard. "Come here," he said, pointing at the kid. "Yeah?" answered the young man, unsure about what was to come. I knew what was coming, though, and I already felt bad for the poor boy. How old was he? No older than 18, for sure.

He stepped closer to the witcher and was immeadiatly thrown on the ground by Geralt punching him in the stomach. He groaned and wheezed, looking up at me, silently asking me why I hadn't warned him. I just smiled and shrugged at him, following the witcher down the road.


	8. O' Valley of Plenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that song that Nienna sings in this is My Chemical Romance's "Desert Song". No, I am not sorry. And I'm also not sorry for refreshing your memory of the lyrics to "Toss a Coin to Your Witcher"...

By now he had mounted Roach, the bard still following us. Looked like we wouldn't lose him any time soon. Honestly, good. After two years of traveling with Sir Grumpy, a little comedy was welcome; and the interaction between the annoyed witcher and the cheerful bard was pure comedy, at least for me.

"Reading between the lines and the gut punshes, chum, I'd say you have a bit of a... an image problem." noted the bard after quietly following us for a while. "Were I to join you on this... feat to defeat the devil of Posada, I could relieve you of that title," he offered, waving his hands through the air like a poet reciting his latest poem to his beloved. "All the north would be too busy singing the tales of... Geralt of Rivia, the- the White Wolf or-or something."

To be honest, we could use a change of the witcher's image. A hero would certainly earn more coin than the Butcher of Blaviken.

"Butcher is right," the witcher stated, not wanting to admit that the young bard was right.

Now that we were both riding our horses it was hard for the bard to keep up with our pace. "Mind if I hop up there with you? It's just, I'm not really wearing the right kind of footwear," the young man asked,already making an attempt to climb up on Roach's back.

"Don't touch Roach," the witcher threatened, interrupting the kid's action.

"Yeah, right, yeah," the bard mumbled, turning around to face me. "Maybe the lady would be so nice t-" I interrupted him. "Don't even think about in, kid."

Just then Geralt stopped and jumped off Roach, making the young man step out of the witchers way and cling on to the strap of his lute, which he was carrying on his back.

While the witcher tied Roach's reins to a tree and I jumped off Vána to do the same, the bard filled us in with the history of the area. "The elves called this Dol Blathanna before bequeating it to the humans and reatreating into their golden palaces in the mountains. There I go again, just... delivering exposition," he said the lst part more to himself.

Geralt turned to me. "Stay with the horses," he told me. i opened my mouth to protest, but he had already turned and walked away, the young bard following him, his voice fading in the distance. I really hoped he would return in one piece, I had quite found a liking in that kid and if he was really able to change the Butcher's image to one of a hero, which he'd never admit he was, but I thought myself the living proof, we'd finally not be short on money -for once.

I sat on the ground next to our trusty steeds and waited. Little did I know that Geralt and the bard had been taken captive and almost killed. So I waited for them, the morning becoming afternoon. Roach and Vána both had layed down, so I untied their reins from the tree and leaned against it, holding the rains in my hand. soon enough I was sitting there with two sleeping horses resting their heads in my lap. They were exhaused from walking non-stop for the past four days, resting only to eat, drink and getting just enough sleep to funktion the next day, which was approximately between three to five hours. Normally they'd wait until we reached a town and they could sleep in the stables. Having the horses sleeping in my lap only proved one thing to me: they trusted me just as much a I trusted them, and this thought filled me with joy. Being loved and accepted for once in my life. I was very glad to call these two horses and the grumpy-on-the-outside-but-soft-on-the-inside witcher my family.

I quietly hummed a tune to the sleeping horses, and the humming soon turned into quiet singing.  
"We hold in our hearts  
The sword and the faith  
Swelled up from the rainclouds  
Move like a wreath

After all  
We'll lie another day  
And through it all  
We'll find some other way  
To carry on  
Through cartilage and fluid

And did you come  
To stare  
Or wash away the blood?  
Well tonight, well tonight  
Will it ever come?  
Spend the rest of your da-"

"Ha, so, you can sing!" the cheery voice of the young bard startled me and I stopped singing, the horses in my lap waking up and lifting their heads for me to get up, so they could stand up. The witcher and me mounted our horses again, making our way further away from the town and onto the next one, the bard filling me in on what I had missed. After I had every information the young man thought i needed he directed his voice at the witcher in front of us.

"Credit where credit is due. That whole reverse-psychology thing you did on them was brilliant, by the way," he imitated Geralt. "'Kill me. I'm ready,'" after a moment of silence, in which the witcher turned towards the young man, annoyed, he added. "That's the conclusion. They just let us go, and you give all of Nettly's coin to the elves."

Wait a second! Geralt gave our coin away?! But we are all out. So much for sleeping in a real bed any time soon...

"Filavandrel's lute not gift enough for you?" the witcher asked, not looking at the bard.

"Yeah, she is a bit sexy, isn't she?" the kid responded, walking with a swagger. Right, the lute, it was a different one. This one looked far more precious, clearly crafted by elves. "I do have respect for Filavandrel. He survived the Great Clensing once. Who knows? Maybe he can do it again. Be reborn," he added, his tone becoming more serious. It was the first time I heard the bard serious. Then he started singing.

“'Will the elf king heed

What the witcher entreats?

Is histoy a wheel

Doomed to repeat?'

No, that's... that's shit." he commented his own song.

Reaching a fork in the road Geralt spoke up. "This is where we part ways, bard, for good." Part of me wanted the kid to stay us, he was funny and optimistic, the exact opposite of the witcher.

"Look. I promised to change the public's tune about you. At least allow me to try." the young man offered, already strumming his lute.

"When a humble bard  
Graced a ride along  
With Geralt of Rivia  
Along came this song

From when the White Wolf fought  
A silver-tongued devil  
His army of elves  
At his hooves did they revel

They came after me  
With masterful deceit  
Broke down my lute  
And they kicked in my teeth

While the devil's horns  
Minced our tender meat  
And so cried the Witcher  
He can't be bleat-"

"That's not how it happened," interrupted the witcher. "Where's your newfound respect?"

"Respect doesn't make history," the bard simply stated and continued singing.  
"Toss a coin to your Witcher  
Oh, valley of plenty  
Oh, valley of plenty, oh  
Toss a coin to your Witcher  
Oh, valley of plenty"

Geralt just sighed in disguised defeat and urged Roach to start moving again, as I did with Vána, following the bard. Maybe this bard could really change the witcher's reputation and help us earn more money for our jobs, so we could stop living from job to job.

"At the edge of the world  
Fight the mighty horde  
That bashes and breaks you  
And bring you the morn, oh

He thrust every elf  
Far back on the shelf  
High up on the mountain  
From whence it came

He wiped out your pest  
Got kicked in his chest  
He's a friend of humanity  
So give him the rest

That's my epic tale  
Our champion prevailed  
Defeated the villain  
Now pour him some ale

Toss a coin to your Witcher  
Oh, valley of plenty  
Oh, valley of plenty, oh  
Toss a coin to your Witcher  
A friend of humanity

Toss a coin to your Witcher  
Oh, valley of plenty  
Oh, valley of plenty  
Toss a coin to your Witcher  
A friend of humanity

Toss a coin to your Witcher  
Oh, valley of plenty  
Oh, valley of plenty  
Toss a coin to your Witcher  
A friend of humanity"


	9. The Girl Stays Too!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nienna is left at the inn while Geralt is off to Temeria to cure the Striga.

It’s been three years since we had met the bard and the payment we received for the jobs changed just as much as the people’s attitude towards us. Before the bard wrote his song we had received between 100 and 400 coins per job, but now most people gave us over 1000, sometimes up to 5000 coins. Geralt and I shared it according to the work each of us actually did during the job, generally I got about a third of our reward.   
The people’s attitude towards us though was a completely different story. Where people had feared the witcher and publicly hated on him, we were now welcomed with free ale and shelter for as long as we wanted to stay. And everywhere we went they sang the bard’s song about the White Wolf.   
Our life – or more the job - may not be easier through the existence of that song, but at least we didn’t have to worry about money anymore.

The town we were in now though either hadn’t heard the bard’s song yet, or they didn’t believe what he sung – and to be honest, that kid didn’t exactly tell the truth. Most of the people treated us with hostility, well, except for the whores that Geralt hired.  
For the first in a very long time we had rented separate rooms, because the witcher had, uhm, certain urges that needed attention, meaning that he needed to fuck. I didn’t blame him though, but I also wasn’t very fond of the sounds coming from his room next door. He had that girl screaming so loud that if I closed my eyes I would have thought they were doing it in my room. Keep it down, lady, you’re not the only person in this inn. And they were on it for the fifth time in three days, and it was barely noon…   
I waited for them to finish and went over, ready to give the witcher a piece of my opinion – I wasn’t scared of him.   
After three sharp knocks on their door I poked my head into the room.  
“Hey, uhh, I understand that you have…uhm, needs, but could you please keep it down a little? Some people are trying to concentrate…” I said, directed at the currently very naked and very sweaty witcher, who made a sound that was a mixture of huff and chuckle and rolled his eyes. Most women would have been flustered at that sight - I mean… sure he was handsome and incredibly well built – but I wasn’t. After years of traveling together we had gotten used to the sight of the other being naked, otherwise sleeping in the wild for days, bathing in rivers and all that stuff would have been very awkward. No, nakedness was casual for us.  
The girl just looked at me wide-eyed. She either hadn’t expected someone to burst into the room just after they had sex, or she was surprised with the way I spoke to the witcher. Nobody else dared to talk to him the way I did. Yet again, after by now five years of traveling with him, I wasn’t scared of him and we often teased each other.  
Satisfied with the, well, more or less non-verbal, answer I went back to my room to continue reading. I sat down on my bed and picked up my book again, finally no noises coming from the room next door.  
Shortly after we met the bard I realized that if I wanted to really help the witcher, I should know something about the creatures we were hunting. So I bought a book containing lore about all possible kinds of creatures of magical and non-magical nature; how to recognize them, where to find them, if they were cursed how to reverse the spell, and how to kill them. Soon enough, when the townsfolk weren’t sure what was haunting them, I was the one to identify the creature before the experienced witcher even had the chance to open his mouth. Learning about lore was interesting and terrifying at the same time, on one hand you learned about all the creatures that were out there; on the other hand you learned what creatures were out there, and what they do to you if they got you, how they’d kill you.  
Noon became evening without me noticing, as I was too deep into my research when the sounds from next door started again, quieter now than the days before. Damn, I should have told them days ago… Once they were done the quiet talking of the woman could be heard, but the chatter and music coming from the tavern were too loud to understand what she said.   
Then suddenly somebody knocked at the door of the witcher’s room. “It’s been three nights. Pay up or get out!” A voice shouted; the innkeeper. After no reaction from inside the room, he shouted again while repeatedly banging against the door. ”You hear me? Witcher!” The man surely had had enough, because the next thing I heard was the door being burst open.  
I knew it was time that we looked for a new job, and as Geralt couldn’t pay for the room, he had spent all his coin on new gear and … other things – let’s just say the whores that he hired weren’t as cheap as the girls in my old brothel. So I packed up my stuff and left the room, joining the witcher outside. He was talking to Roach when he turned towards the innkeeper.  
“I’ll be back with payment in a few days. Anything happens to my horse…” he said, a hidden threat.  
The innkeeper chuckled. “You don’t scare me.”  
Geralt just looked at him, stepped closer to the man until only a few feet separated them and stared him down menacingly. “Point me to Temeria,” The witcher more or less ordered and the innkeeper complied, pointing in the direction of the kingdom that would be home to us for the job.  
As we turned to leave, leaving both our horses behind, the innkeeper called out “The girl stays too!”  
Clenching my jaw I looked at the witcher, annoyed. “Do as he says,” he told me. “And keep an eye on the horses.” I hummed in surrender and annoyance. Turning to the witcher for one last time I said “Be save out there. I want you back here in one piece.” I smiled, but hidden behind that smile was worry. I know he was experienced and used to hunt alone before he had met me, but this was his first hunt after five years that he’d have to go on alone. A small smirk graced the witcher’s lips in the dim light. “I will,” And with that we both turned and walked in the direction each of us had to.  
***  
The next days were uneventful. The innkeeper had me working off what Geralt owed him. I was allowed to keep my room, as I could pay for it, but that didn’t mean I was in there during the day. At sunrise I had to start my work, cleaning the stables and brushing the horses. At least that way I could spend time with Roach and Vána, which was needed as Geralt’s absence made Roach nervous, seeing that I was still there calmed her down at least a little, but all three of us were hoping for the witcher’s quick return.   
But my work didn’t end there. The innkeeper also had me work in the tavern as waitress. The clientele was shady, so I always kept one or more daggers hidden on my body – just in case. I never had to use it though, luckily. During my shift I would sometimes hum or sing the bard’s song about the White Wolf, hoping it would lower the price for Geralt’s room or have the costumers tip me. The latter was the case, sometimes. People who had heard the song would join in.  
My shift would end with the last costumer leaving the tavern, often in the early morning hours. Exhausted I’d go to my room and pass out the moment my body met the soft bed.   
This went on for three days. On the fourth morning, just as I was brushing the hay out of Roach’s soft mane, something big covered the entrance to the stables, casting a shadow over my working hands. I knew it was him. No one else of his statue could walk that quiet. Without looking up I greeted the witcher. “Took you long enough. What was it?” – “A striga,” came the deep reply, the slight pain hidden in his voice causing me to look up at him. His leather armor was damaged on the left side of his neck, a bloodied bandage peeking out from under it. “I recall telling you to return in one piece,” I teased, knowing how fest he’d heal. In two to three days he’d be as good as new. “I tried, but there’s not much a man can do to defend himself from an angry, cursed princess, you know?” he teased back. I smiled at him, happy to have the witcher back, which meant we could finally leave this town and go somewhere where they might appreciate our presence.   
Geralt paid what he owed the innkeeper, which wasn’t too much after my work, and we left the town in search of a new job.


	10. You Remind Me Of Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major plot twist in this one! Overall feels with mentions of rape and axiety. Read with caution.

It’s been a few years, our reputation gradually getting better from every town we came and they were all singing that damned song. Surely we must be traveling behind the bard. And after two years we finally caught up on him. It was in an inn just behind the borders of Cidaris when we heard that familiar voice singing the praises of the White Wolf. I looked up at my travel companion who just rolled his eyes and searched for a place to sit, preferably out of sight of the young bard.  
And that was when I spotted him. Five years had passed and he still looked the same, he didn’t age one day… We locked eyes and his expression grew even more cheery than it was before. Excitedly he almost skipped towards me. “Milady, what a joy it is to see you again,” he said. “Our common friend doesn’t happen to be here as well?” I laughed. “Oh, he’s just there in the corner. Come on.” And with that I lead the bard to Geralt’s table, the witcher’s expression growing annoyed as he saw us approaching. “Why’d you bring him here?” he asked, directed at me. “I missed you, too,” said the bard. Geralt rolled his eyes. “Come on, Geralt. We owe this kid so much. Letting him sit with us when we happen to be in the same town is the least we can do,” I said, sitting down, pointing at the bard to do the same. And he did, immediately starting to ramble on about how he made us famous, and how that made him famous, and so on. I didn’t really pay attention to what he was saying, and I could tell the witcher didn’t either, but we did for different reasons.  
I can’t tell for whatever reason Geralt didn’t listen to the bard, but for me… Well, I finally really looked at the bard. Back when we met I more or less only glanced at him. He seemed so familiar. Not because we had already met, no, it was something else, but I couldn’t, by the gods above, figure out what it was.  
I realized I must have been staring at the now confused looking bard, an elbow hitting my side ripping me out of my trance. “What?!” I asked them both, glaring at the witcher while rubbing my ribs. “I could be the one to ask that,” replied the bard. “You’ve been staring at me for at least half an hour. Should I be flattered?” he added the last sentence with a playful chuckle. “Ugh, no. It- It’s just… you remind me of someone, and for fuck’s sake, I can’t figure out who,” I confessed.  
His hair, his eyes, the bone structure of his face… it almost looked like… no, that’s insane! He almost reminded me of – of my father when he was younger.  
“How old are you?” I asked the bard, suddenly, without giving any context. “23, why?” 23… 23… twenty-three years ago my mother died, while giving birth. I was five. Now I’m 28… could it be that this bard was… no, he couldn’t be my brother! The baby died, together with my mother, or did he?  
“I’ll let you two discuss this alone,” said Geralt, standing up and downing his ale in one go. He left, either to rent a room or look after the horses, but I didn’t really care. What I cared about now is the bard in front of me.  
“You look like my father,” mumbled at him. “What?” I wasn’t sure if he didn’t understand me, or simply was surprised, so I said it again, but louder. “You look like my father. And my mother died giving birth to a boy, and he would be your age now, and- “ I rambled only to be interrupted by the bard. “Hold on. So, you think that I could be your brother?” I nodded. “Well, I didn’t grow up in my family. The woman who raised me later told me that my father had to give me away; he couldn’t care for a new-born.” I felt stupid for not asking the most obvious question to solve this mystery earlier. “Where do you come from?” He answered “Oh, from around here. A small town a little outside of Kerack,”  
It hit me, my facial expression going blank. There was only one town outside of Kerack that could be described as ‘a little outside’ - all the others took three to four days to reach…by horse – and that town was the one place on the whole Continent I swore to never set a foot in again. “I grew up there, too,” I whispered, but he heard me. “Though,” I said, fully facing him. ”that place has been a lot kinder to you than it was to me.” My brother looked at me, questioningly. “How so? I mean… You’re traveling together with the White Wolf! How did you two meet, by the way?” I looked around at all the cheery people in the tavern, no place to tell my tragic story. “Not here. Come on,”  
With that I led him outside and to the stables, the presence of Roach and Vána calming me down. Having to relive the memories I had from my former life, before I met the witcher, before he saved me, made my heart race, my nerves flutter and my stomach turn. In short, it made me anxious.  
“After mother died, father raised me alone. He was a hunter. One day he was attacked by a wild boar. The wounds became infected. He sold me to the town’s whore house, to have someone provide until he got better, but he died.  
On my fourteenth birthday I was forced to become a whore. Over seven years I was treated like shit, until one day I escaped. I didn’t make it far, though. Some men, costumers of the brothel, recognized me on the road and beat me up, planning to rape me as soon as I lost consciousness. But they didn’t, they couldn’t, because Geralt happened to be on his way to Vergen, and he heard my screaming. He saved me that day from certain death, brought me with him and cared for me; and when my keeper found out where I was, Geralt bought me from him, saving me from death again. And I decided to stay with him, helping him during the hunts, trying to repay him for saving me, twice.”  
My brother just looked at me, stunned, as I told him my story while combing my icy fingers through Vána’s mane in an attempt to calm me down. I turned towards him, noticing tears in his eyes, the cheery boy who greeted me two hours ago completely gone. “I-I, I’m so sorry,” he rasped out reaching out for me to pull me into a tight hug. I melted into his embrace, happy to have a part of my real family back. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Geralt, Roach and Vána like they were my family, and they are, but knowing that I’m not the only person of my blood left, sparked immense joy inside of me. So while my brother was suppressing tears of pity, I wept tears of joy and relief into his colorful jacket.  
As we were standing there, the horses watching us quietly, I realized something. “You’ve never told us your name,” I stated, looking up at him. “It’s Jaskier. And yours?” “Nienna,” I smiled.


	11. You should have told me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is to fill in the gap so that I don't just jump from episode to episode. it has a little drama and loooots of softness, so enjoy : )

After a moment of two siblings just enjoying each other’s embrace we both decided that it was time to tell the witcher. He – kind of – was family after all. We went up to his room and explained to him what we had just found out.  
“Hmm,” his deep voice rumbled. “I suspected as much. You smell similar…” I gaped like a fish on the shore. “W-we w – We what?! W-why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Jokingly scandalized I stomped out of the room, Jaskier following me, laughing. He offered me to stay in his room and I happily accepted.  
So now we were sitting there criss cross on the bed, facing each other. “So, tell me a little about your childhood then. I feel like you know everything about me, but I know nothing about you,” I smiled at my younger brother, still beaming with happiness. “Well,” he started. “Father gave me away to a lady who had just lost her child, without the knowledge of her husband. She took me in and raised me as her own. Until I was fifteen I didn’t know that I was adopted, I believed the Viscount of Vergen to be my real father, and I still am his heir, but-“ I interrupted him. “Hold on a second. Viscount?! You’re a noble?”  
“Not by blood,” he pointed out. “But yes. My full name is Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.” I looked at him dumbfounded. “Damn. And how come you call yourself Jaskier?” He smiled. “My mother’s nickname for me.”  
We got to know each other better, asking questions until the early morning hours, the excitement over our reunion keeping us awake. Only when the sun started to rise I realized how tired I was, rolled up on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.  
***  
When I woke up that evening I still couldn’t believe what happened the day before. It just felt so surreal to be reunited with a brother who I thought to be dead. And Geralt… he knew, or must at least have suspected that the annoying bard was my blood ever since he had smelled Jaskier. That was five years ago and he didn’t say a single word.  
I went downstairs to the inn’s tavern to see the witcher sitting at the table in the corner where we sat yesterday and my brother performing cheerily. I grabbed a pint of ale from the bar and leaned against a wooden pole in middle of the room, watching my brother with a smile on my face.  
“I’m happy for you, I am,” came the witcher’s rough voice from behind me. I turned to him, beaming, but also slightly angry at him; it was a confusing feeling. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked him. “You had to find it out by yourself,” I was not satisfied with that answer. “Oh, no no no. No. Don’t start that crap. You knew that we were at least somehow related and that we didn’t recognize each other. You should have told me!” By now I was whisper-screaming at the witcher.  
“Why?”  
“Because he’s all I have left of family!” I more or less yelled at him, stepping away from him and out of the door, making my way towards the stables. I needed Vána’s presence to help me calm down. I didn’t listen to the witcher calling out my name, but he didn’t follow me, and as angry as I was at him, I was thankful for that. He understood that I needed space.  
Sitting down in Vána’s box, with the horse lying down, her head resting in my lap, my hands combing through the mare’s mane, I thought about every possibility as of why Geralt didn’t tell me that the bard we met in Posada was my younger brother. He might never confess it, but I guess the answer that is most likely is that he didn’t want to lose me. If he had told me I would have left the witcher to travel with my brother. Bullshit, I would have convinced them both to travel together, so that I could have my whole family with me. I could never ever choose one of them and leave the other behind.  
A quiet knock on the stable-door startled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Geralt, an apologetic smile on his face. “Nienna, I’m sorry. I-“ - “No, you should have known that I wouldn’t, that I can’t choose!” I sobbed. “I know,” the witcher’s rough voice was quiet, almost soft. “Come here.” Without even thinking I got up and left Vána’s box. Geralt pulled me into a tight embrace, whispering over and over how sorry he was. This was the softest I ever experienced the otherwise so tough witcher. The clearing of a throat behind us caused me to look up, only to see my Jaskier watching us with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Smiling I reached out for him to join us in the hug, much to Geralt’s disliking at first, but he got used to it after a while. We stood there for I don’t know how long. Just me and the two most important men in my life; I’ve never been happier.  
“If you write a song about this, bard, I’ll kill you.” The witcher mumbled as we finally parted. “You wouldn’t dare,” I hissed at him, playfully. “Watch me,” the witcher replied, just as playful, while my brother just stood there and watched us joke over his life. Yeah, living with a monster-hunter you develop a very dark sense of humor.

That night I slept in my brother’s room, knowing that my family was now finally complete.


	12. Ambushed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is a little longer, and it also contains the first fight scene i've ever written, so any constuctive criticism is welcome and appreciated...  
> enjoy :)

Over the next few years the three of us plus our horses traveled together. Geralt and I fought monsters all over the Continent while Jaskier wrote his songs about the witcher’s heroic feats.  
We often sat around the campfire in the wild, eating, joking, the bard singing and the grumpy witcher complaining, but secretly enjoying the situation.  
When we were in town though, the picture was completely different. Geralt would sit in the corner and brood, like always, Jaskier would sing and I would stand in the middle of the room, paying attention to the crowd. Many people came to me when they wanted something from the witcher, as the tall man clad in black leather armor didn’t exactly look approachable. I would lead them to the witcher, tell him their issue and let them negotiate the payment. Other times men would approach me and try to get me into their bed; I was after all the only girl around wearing only a loose blouse, a corset and tight leather pants. I wasn’t sure if they chose to ignore the various weapons strapped to my body, or if they, in their lust induced haze, just didn’t see them. It was almost hilarious to watch Jaskier in these moments. He would tense up, all protective, unsure if he should confront the man or not. But he wasn’t as experienced as me when it came to combat, so when a man grabbed me all it took from me was a quick movement of my arm and the man’s wrist would be broken. No one in that town would ever try to touch me again. But luckily that didn’t happen often, most of the time as simple growl of ‘go away’ was enough; they knew better than mess with an armed woman, especially when she was traveling with a witcher.

***  
Right now we were in a small town in Lyria. Geralt was tense, he grew up around here. The town we were staying in was shady, but it promised good money. Over years villagers disappeared and the few bodies that were found covered in bite and claw marks. We’re dealing with a hellhound, for sure. It simply all fit together: an exceedingly shady town and all the people that had disappeared were known criminals.  
We searched for the beast in the forest, where the bodies had been found, our weapons drawn, ready to charge at anything that might attack us. I had asked Jaskier to stay at the inn, this hunt was more dangerous that the ones before, but he stubbornly refused. “How can I write the ballade when I’m not there to witness the feat?” he had said. So now we were here, searching for a fucking hellhound, which was already fucking dangerous, even for someone as experienced as Geralt, while we also had to look out for the bard, who had zero experience in the matter of monster hunting.  
Two pairs of watchful eyes inspected every bush, every tiny movement; the witcher’s fine senses capturing even the faintest sound or smell. The bard trotting behind us was already contemplating the perfect rhyme for ’hellhound’, and no, he was not doing so quietly. Geralt was tense. I knew he was trying to hold back from yelling at the bard, so I decided to step in. I turned to my brother and whisper-yelled at him. “For the love of the gods above, Jas, shut the fuck up! You’re going to get us all killed if you keep that up! Who is going to sing about Geralt then, huh?” to my surprise, it worked. Growing pale Jaskier looked at me, finally understanding the seriousness of our mission. “Sorry,” he breathed.  
We continued our search, for what felt like hours, when suddenly…  
The witcher in front of me stopped and held out an arm, signifying for us to halt. It all happened so fast that I almost ran into the broad man, and Jaskier ran into me. “It’s here,” the witcher breathed out, almost too quiet to hear. Quickly reaching into the bag on his belt he pulled out a vial filled with black liquid – one of his potions – and chugged it, his eyes turning black almost instantly. The bard behind me grabbed my arm, this must be the first time he’d seen Geralt like this. I just glanced at his, a reassuring smile on my face, but then I noticed: Jaskier was completely unarmed! Without further ado I handed him my sword, hoping he’d figure out how to use it, and grabbed my bow and arrow for myself, ready to aim at the beast, once it decided to show itself.  
A low growl was all we heard at first. Then the rustling of the bushed around us. Following the movement of the leaves with my eyes I realized that the hellhound was circling us, plotting to attack us from behind – where Jaskier stood; the weakest of our company! I whipped around and let my arrow fly at the spot where the leaves had last rustled. A mixture of howl and growl was heard – I had hit the beast – and then it burst out from the bushes. The large dog-like creature charged at us with fiery eyes. The witcher lunged at it with his steel sword, causing the animal to yelp. Seeing the beast occupied for a moment I lead Jaskier further away from the fight, positioning myself in front of him and aiming at the hellhound, trying to get a clear shot at its eyes. I let my arrow fly, careful not to shoot the witcher by accident. I missed, the arrow hitting the beast’s shoulder. The animal’s confusion at the sudden pain though gave the witcher enough time to thrust his sword down through the hellhound’s skull and into the ground, pinning the twitching body down.  
But the relief was short-lived. Snarling, another hellhound jumped out of the bushes behind Jaskier. Without thinking I threw myself in front of my brother, the beast’s fangs piercing the skin on my shoulder. I screamed out in excruciating pain, collecting all my senses to grab a dagger from my belt and thrust it up into the beast’s gut. With a yelp it finally let go of me, the witcher already there to strike it down. I was pulled away from the fight by my now extremely antsy brother, who had taken off his beloved doublet, balled it up and pressed it against my shoulder to stop the bleeding. My eyes grew heavy and my hearing faded, as if somebody was covering my ears. “Stay with me, Nienna! You hear me?! Don’t fall asleep!” a worried voice reached my cloudy brain, my breathing becoming ragged. The noises of the fight had stopped and I could faintly hear a shout of ‘Geralt, help!’. Then a shadow loomed over my eyes, the uncorking of a vial was heard and the pressure on my shoulder disappeared. It was replaced by a white-hot pain – Geralt was pouring one of his potions into the deep wound. I screamed, louder than I had ever screamed before, writhing on the ground, the iron grip of the two men holding me down. One of them grabbed my head, forcing my mouth open. “Drink!” came a command. And I did. The liquid tasted awful, leaving a burning sensation in my mouth down to my stomach. The pressure on my shoulder returned and I was lifted from the ground, my vision blurry I could see Jaskier’s worried face next to me. Geralt was carrying me. Both of them repeatedly told me to stay awake, to not give in, but it was easier for them to say than it was for me to do. Waves of darkness crashed my vision, my eyelids feeling heavier by the minute.  
Finally I felt something soft beneath my body; my surroundings still a blurry mess. “I need hot water and bandages! Now!” the booming voice of the witcher broke through my fogged brain, and for a second I could see my brother’s worried face staring at me, one of his hands cradling mine, the other still pressing his by now soaked doublet to my shoulder. The witcher came over to the bed. “Thank the gods hellhounds aren’t venomous. We only have to get the damn bleeding to stop,” he said in an attempt to calm Jas down. My brother just looked down at me and held my hand tighter. That was the last thing I remembered before I passed out.


	13. Selkiemore Guts

I woke up to the soft murmur of a quiet conversation, or more like one person quietly rambling. The wound on my shoulder was pounding, causing me to groan. That startled the two men, and they both rushed to my side. "Nienna," breathed my brother, tears of relief threatening to spill from his eyes, as he cradled my face. The witcher remained serious. "If that beast had gotten you only a few inches to the left, you'd be dead." I knew that kind of behavior from him. This wasn't the first time I got injured on a hunt, but this one was the worst so far. He'd never admit it, but he was scared that I could have died. He was also proud that I saved somebody else's life, but at the same time disappointed because I risked my life. All these feelings were confusing the witcher, so he chose to be stern.

He came over to the bed to hold my hand. "You need rest. And a lot of water. You've lost a lot of blood." He said, his voice softer this time, and in his amber eyes was a hint of tenderness. And I did as I was told. I slept for the majority of the next few days, having to rely on Geralt and Jaskier for almost everything because I was so weak. When I was able to sit up by myself, five days after the attack, it was like a victory for me.

Once the witcher saw that I didn't need the help of both men he left. After staying in that inn for over a week the coin was running out and he needed to complete a few jobs.

My wound healed nicely, and after two weeks I was able to wield my sword again; the strength in my arm had fully returned. Surely due to the potion Geralt gave me.

So now, Jaskier and I were traveling after the witcher, the people pointing us from town to town until we finally caught up. Geralt had made a good amount of money in our absence, but he refused to tell Jaskier the stories of his feats, much to my amusement. Seeing the witcher trying to remain calm while the bard bombarded him with questions was way too funny. I would burst out laughing and the witcher would glare at me; if looks could kill...

***

Soon enough we found ourselves in Cintra, in Riverdell to be exact. A selkiemore was said to live in the lake, terrorizing the people and swallowing whole ships.

Jaskier had pressed us to go to Cintra, but he would not tell us why. At least he had finally understood that if he didn't help slaying beasts he could not accompany us on the job, it was simply too dangerous to watch out for the unarmed bard while hunting a dangerous monster. I was slightly pissed that I had to nearly die for him to understand that; we had told him time and time again to stay behind and wait for us, but he wouldn't listen. After the hellhound-attack he obeyed our – or more my – pleads and Geralt's orders. I was slightly pissed at Jas that I had to nearly die for him to understand that there was no place for an unarmed man on a monster hunt. But, hey, I'm still alive and at least he stays in the tavern now while Geralt and I do what we're paid for.

And this was exactly where he was now, sitting in the warm tavern, while the witcher and I stood at the shore of a frozen lake that was said to be housing a selkiemore. Apparently it had swallowed a village that was situated directly by the shore. A whole fucking village! A townsman had lead us there and offered to wait with us for the beast to show up, from a safe distance, of course.

"So, how are we going to do this?" I asked the witcher once the townsman was out of earshot, not wanting him to know that this was a whole new monster for us. Geralt was focused on the lake, his amber gaze watching out for any movement under the ice.

His expression turned unsure. "I'll go out on the ice, you'll stay here. If anything moves, shoot." He more or less ordered, but in his voice was a hint of uncertainty.This monster was completely new for him after all.

"I read that their skin can't be pierced easily, but their insides are extremely vulnerable. So are their eyes," I reminded him, before he stepped on the thick ice. "Good. Aim for them," He called out and made his way to the middle of the lake.

A large shadow crept from the depth of the huge lake, circling the in comparison small, almost tiny witcher. I aimed an arrow at the shadow, waiting for the beast to burst through the ice. And it did. Right where the witcher was standing, his sword held, ready to thrust it into the creature's palate. It was a horrible sight. Rows upon rows of sharp, needle-like teeth decorated the selkiemore's gigantic maw, which enclosed the witcher before he could do anything.

I let my arrow fly, but by the time it reached the middle of the lake, the beast had already disappeared into the deep. I heard hurried footsteps fading into the distance and as I turned I saw the townsman running away.

I focused back on the lake, looking for any sign that Geralt was still alive. The water was splashing wildly, surely there was a fight beneath the surface, or more like inside the monster. Minutes passed, and I was scared that the monster might have won. Carefully I made my way to the hole the monster left behind in the ice. Another few minutes passed, when suddenly a hand reached out from the icy water. I grabbed it and pulled the witcher onto the ice.

He was covered over and over in the guts of the beast. To say that he reeked awfully was an understatement. "Insides, vulnerable," he scoffed. "If that was how 'vulnerable' that thing is from the inside, I don't want to know how hard it would have been to kill it from the outside."


	14. I Need Noone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quite a long chapter and it's only five minutes into the episode...

We made our way back to the town. As the wind was coming from in front of us I walked ahead of the witcher, not wanting to have to smell him more than necessary. I entered the tavern to find the man who ran from the lake tell Jaskier what happened. “Oh, this is brilliant!” was the first thing I heard, keeping in the shadows, to hear the rest of the story. “Oh, sorry. It’s just Geralt’s usually so stingy with the details.” My brother explained the shocked looking townsfolk. “Uh… and then what happened?” he urged the man to continue. “He died,” came the man’s answer. I scoffed to myself. If he hadn’t ran away he would have seen that the witcher was very much alive. More than that, he was on his way here. I may or may not have run the way here to escape the awful smell… “Eeh, he’s fine,” piped Jaskier. “Look, I was there. I saw it with my own-“ the man was interrupted by the loud crashing of the door bursting open. Aaaand the smell returned. “See?” jeered the bard, not looking up from his note book. At this moment Geralt stepped up at the table Jaskier was seated at. The crowd either gasped or held their noses. In the warm room the smell was almost unbearable. I came up behind the annoyed looking witcher. The bard just chuckled, while the townsman looked confused. “Oh… What’s that stench?” he asked, as if it weren’t obvious. I rolled my eyes. “Selkiemore guts,” Grunted the witcher. “Had to kill it from the inside. I’ll take what I’m owed,” grumbled the tall man. And with that Jas started singing that damned song.  
“Toss a coin to your witcher  
O’ valley of plenty  
Whoa”  
The people inside the tavern joined in.  
“Toss a coin to your witcher  
A friend of humanity”  
Rising from his seat the bard slowly reached out for the witcher’s shoulder, but stopped when his fingers grazed the slimy guts covering the fabric. “Yikes,” he muttered while the witcher made his way to the bar, I followed, careful not to touch the witcher as the bard skipped behind us. “You’re welcome,” Geralt was handed a pint of ale. ”And now, Witcher, it’s time to repay your debt.” the witcher took a sip of the ale and immediately spit it out, glaring at the man behind the bar with look on his face that said more or less ‘are you fucking kidding me?! What is this shit?’,but Jaskier ignored this and continued rambling.  
“’What debt?’ you’re probably asking yourself in your head right now. Well, I’ll tell you. I’ve made you famous, Witcher. By rights, I should be claiming ten percent of all your coin, but instead, what I’m asking for is a teeny, teeny-weeny little favor.”  
Oh, well, being allowed to travel with him wasn’t enough then, huh?  
“Fuck off, bard,” grunted the witcher.  
But my brother was persistent. “For one measly night of service, you will gain a cornucopia of earthly delights. The greatest masters of the culinary arts crafting morsels worthy of the gods,”  
Geralt was uninterested and turned to leave.  
“Maidens that would make the sun itself blush with a single comely smile,” the witcher turned to left.  
I remained leaning against the bar, waiting for my brother to realize that by now he was talking to nothing but air.  
“And rivers of the sweetest of drinks from the rarest of-“ And the coin dropped. I snickered to myself. “Fuck! Food women and wine, Geralt!” Jaskier called out behind the witcher. This caught his attention and he returned to where we were standing.  
“I’ll bathe first!” I called out, racing up the stairs. And so I did. While I was sitting in the washroom wrapped in a towel, drying my hair, the witcher sat in the bathtub. He grunted loudly as Jaskier dumped a bucket of water over his head, washing away a little of the guts that still clung to the witcher’s body. “Now, now, stop your boorish grunts of protest,” chided my younger brother. “It is one night bodyguarding your very best friend in the whole wide world. How hard could it be?”  
“I didn’t know Roach needed a bodyguard,” I chimed in, earning a glance and a tiny smile from the currently extremely grumpy witcher, before he turned to the cheery man.  
“I’m not your friend,” stated the bathing man.  
“Oh. Oh, really? Oh, you usually just let strangers rub chamomile onto your lovely bottom?”  
Probably… I never had to do that. Geralt turned to the bard, glaring daggers at him. “Yeah, well, yeah, exactly. That’s what I thought,” Jas mumbled. “Every lord, knight and twopenny king worth his salt will be at this betrothal. The Lioness of Cintra herself will sing the praises of Jaskier’s triumphant performance!” the bard declared, throwing a pinch of bathing salt into the tub, while the witcher continued to stare at him, a stern, almost threatening look on his face.  
“How many of these lords want to kill you?” he finally spoke up.  
“Hard to say. One stops counting after a while. Wives, concubines, mothers sometimes,” Jas confessed. Damn, keep it in your pants for once, will you?! The witcher just glared at him, the expression never faltering. “Ooh, yeah, that face! Scary face. No lord in his right mind will come close if you’re standing next to me with a puss like that.”  
I’ve had enough, plus my hair was dry, so I left these two to get myself dressed. Only to discover that my usual clothes were gone from where I had put them, and instead there was a dark blue dress with burgundy trim draped over my bed, a note resting atop it, saying ‘wear this’. Due to the lack of alternatives I started putting the dress on, listening to the conversation coming from the washroom.  
“Ooh, on second thoughts… might want to lay off the Cintran ale,” a groan. “A clear head would be best.”  
“I will not suffer tonight sober just because you hid your sausage in the wrong royal panty,” protested the witcher.  
I giggled.  
“I’m not killing anyone. Not over the petty squabbles of men.”  
“Yes, yes, yes. You never get involved. Except you actually do, all of the time.”  
Yeah, that’s true…  
“Ugh. Is this what happens when you get old? You get unbearably crochety and cantankerous? Actually, I’ve always wanted to know, do witchers ever retire?”  
“Yeah, when they slow and get killed.”  
“Come on, you must want something for yourself once all this… monster hunting nonsense is over with.”  
“I want nothing.”  
“Well, who knows? Maybe someone out there will want you.”  
“I need no one. And the last thing I want is someone needing me.”  
Well too late for that…  
“And yet… here we are. The three of us.”  
“Hm,” water splashing. “Where the fuck are my clothes, Jaskier?”  
Yeah, I want to know too, that dress… I haven’t worn one in ten years and the corset of the underwear was heavily constricting my ability to breathe.  
“Ah. Well, uh, they were sort of covered in selkiemore guts, so I sent them away to be washed. Anyway, you’re not going tonight as a witcher.”  
I stepped into the room. “And as what are we going then. I swear to the gods, if I suffocate in this dress, I will come back to haunt you, brother, and there is no one who can save you from me!” I yelled at my brother. My little outburst amused the witcher, and startled the bard. They both turned to look at me and gaped at the sight for a second.  
Yes, the dress was pretty, and I felt beautiful wearing it, but at the same time it was tight and heavy and I knew that if it came to a fight – and it surely would, this is the Cintran court we’re talking about – this dress would hinder me. The only good thing about the dress is that I could store all my daggers under my skirt.  
Both men quickly got dressed and we made our way to the court of the Lioness.


	15. The Banquet (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Had to divide this into two parts, the second will probably come on monday

The clothes Jaskier had picked out for the witcher made him look so much less threatening, almost human, if it weren’t for his amber glare and the large sword which was for a change not strapped on his back but dangling from his belt. To say he looked handsome was an understatement and I found myself shocked that after more than ten years of traveling with this man his looks could surprise me. “Well, don’t you two clean up nicely?” Jaskier marveled at the Geralt and me, dusting off the witcher’s black doublet, earning a grunt from the tall man and a glare from us both.  
We were not used to wear nice clothes. For our job the clothes had to be practical. The bard on the other hand liked colorful, impractical clothes. For this special occasion he was wearing a golden doublet with matching pants, the fabric shimmering in the light.  
“Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s for one day,” the bard chided at us and began walking towards the castle’s big entrance.  
“Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove,” he said to the guard preventing him from entering. “And my, uh, companions,” he added, pointing at Geralt and me. The guard let us pass and soon enough we found ourselves at the entrance on the large throne room.  
“Right, so stick close to me, look mean and pretend you’re mute. Can’t have anyone finding out who you are,” reminded the bard. “And Nienna, you look pretty and at least pretend you are charming, got it? And don’t mention that you’re traveling with a witcher!”  
I smirked. “Ooh, dear brother,” I said, my voice sweet like honey. “I can be about as charming as the dagger strapped to my thigh.” with the second half of the sentence my voice grew more harsh, until the last word came out as a hiss.  
Just as we stepped around a corner a man spotted us, recognized the witcher and called out for him. “Geralt of Rivia, the mighty Witcher!” Jaskier cursed under his breath and the man came over. “I haven’t seen you since the plague,” he continued talking.  
Well, so much for our plan…  
“Good times, Mousesack,” deadpanned the witcher causing the man, Mousesack to laugh.  
“I’ve missed your sour complexion,” he laughed, clearly drunk. “I feared this would be a dull affair, but now the White Wolf is here, perhaps all is not lost. Why are you dressed like a sad silk trader?”  
The witcher didn’t say a word; he just glared at my brother who tried to ignore the men talking. “What?” he asked innocently.  
“Walk with me,” said the man to the witcher and they left us.  
For a moment Jaskier and I just stood there, unsure what to now that our plan was – how do I put it? – fucked. Then my brother stepped away, babbling something about mingling with the crowd and avoiding angry husbands. I followed him but kept my distance. Close enough to step in should something happen, but far away enough to not seem like a weird stalker.  
It all went well for a while, until a lord stepped up to the bard. “You!” Jaskier pretended as if he didn’t notice the lord. “Hey, you!” the lord spat, finally catching my brother’s attention. I stepped closer, hastily making a plan how I could save my brother from the wrath of this angry lord, as our dear witcher was too deep into conversation. “You. I’ve seen you before. You slept with my wife!” That man was fuming.  
I decided to step in, sliding one hand around my brother’s waist and resting the other on his chest, clinging to his side. I looked up at him with big, innocent eyes. “Dear? What is this all about?” I asked timidly. “This man right there slept with my wife!” yelled the lord again. I turned towards him, still an innocent look on my face. “You must be mistaking, my lord. You see, my husband has been nothing but faithful ever since we met as children,” I smiled sweetly at the lord, hoping that would convince him to leave us alone. Luckily it worked and the lord left. I stepped back from my brother and brushed the crinkles out of my skirt.  
“Wow. Thank you. Married.” Jaskier huffed as soon as the lord was out of sight.  
“Well, you’re welcome. If not for me you could have been dead my now. I had to improvise, okay?! And we wouldn’t be in that mess if you could keep it in your pants for once, but here we are. So don’t be upset when I try to save your life, fucking damn it!” I let my frustration out, turning on my heel and made my way into the crowd. I grabbed a goblet of wine and sipped on it, while leaning against the wall, watching out for my stupid brother ready to step in again and pretend to be his to save his goddamn life, whether he liked it or not.  
And a second lord approached Jaskier. I saw Geralt also noticing this and stayed back, close enough to listen to them and also step in if needed.  
“Something about you reminds me of a scoundrel I once saw fleeing my wife’s chambers!” the lord hissed while stepping closer to the nervously stuttering bard. “Drop your trousers,” the lord commanded. “What?” confusion written all over my brother’s nervous face. “I didn’t get a proper look at the little shit’s face, but that pimply arse I’d remember anywhere.”  
I couldn’t help but chuckle at this.  
That was when the witcher stepped in. “Well… uh, uh… Ah, Geralt,” stuttered the bard and chuckled nervously.  
“Forgive me, my lord.” The witcher spoke. “This… happens all the time. It’s true, he has the face of a cad and a coward. But, truth be known, he was kicked in the balls by an ox as a child.”  
Blame it on the wine, but I lost it. I was laughing as much as I could without being noticed.  
“Well, that’s… tr-true,” stuttered Jas.  
Turning first to the witcher then the bard the lord said “Apologies. Here, drown your…sorrows on me, eunuch,” tossing a coin to my brother.  
As the lord left I stepped up to the two men.  
“Oh, wow. Thank you. Thank you so much,” Jas complained. “First of all, you hog all the fanfare, then you go and ruin my courtly reputation.”  
“I saved your life. You’re on your own from here on,” responded the witcher.  
“Don’t take it personally, Geralt. He reacted the same way when I pretended to be his wife to save him from the lord before,” I told the witcher.  
“Try not to get any daggers in your back before dawn,” added the witcher, glancing at me as he said ‘daggers’. Come on! I know Jaskier can piss me off, but I would never stab him in the back! If I was to kill him, I’d so facing him! Just kidding.  
At this moment fanfares started blaring and a herald called out. “All rise for Her Majesty, the Lioness, Queen Calanthe of Cintra!”  
I stood up straighter, realizing in this moment that I’ve never been to a royal court before.  
The queen strode into the throne room, bloody and wearing armor. She was… so much different from how I expected a queen to look. But what I heard from her, she was not an ordinary queen.  
“Beer!” she called out, grabbing a pint of ale off a tray and throwing her helmet to a servant behind her. The crowd cheered and my brother made his way over to a small stage for the musicians while Geralt remained leaning against the wall. I decided to stay with the witcher. Big crowds such as this weren’t really my thing, and from here I could at least watch my brother, and step in should he do something stupid.

The queen addressed the crowd. “Apologies, noble sirs. A few upstart townships in the south needed reminding who was Queen.”  
The crowd laughed and cheered.  
“I find it’s good for one’s blood and humors.”  
The crowd jeered.  
“Ready your suitor’s tales of glory, good lords. My daughter is ready to have this over with. As am I.”  
With a vague gesture of her hand she added “Bard, music!”, causing the crowd to cheer and Jaskier to bow as he started a song, which was immediately interrupted by the Lioness. “No, no, no! A jig! You save your bloody maudlin nonsense for my funeral.”  
And so, Jaskier started playing a lively tune together with some other musicians.


	16. The Banquet (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long one to make up for the long wait.
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> Ps. the episode is oly half way through...

I stayed with Geralt, leaning against the bannister of the colonnade, each of us a drink in hand and watching the crowd. Soon enough a fight broke out among the lords. One of them claimed to have slain a manticore, while another refused to believe him.  
“You lie, you little shite!” yelled the first one. “You’ve never faced so much as a bad meal in your life, never mind a manticore.”  
The witcher and I exchanged a knowing glance and then proceeded to watch the scene.  
“I’ve had manticores thrice as fat and ugly as you perish under my steel!” protested the second lord.  
The first one countered. “Under your bullshit, more like. How many stings has it got then?”  
“Two,” replied the second man.  
“Hah! Go away and shite! It’s five. I know,” bragged the first lord.  
I watched as a woman stepped up to the queen, whispering something to her, eyeing the witcher next to me.  
“I’ve actually killed one,” the first lord still boasted and the other one attacked the man, grabbing him by the doublet.  
Before anything could escalate – much to my disappointment as the banquet was rather boring – the queen yelled out.  
“Enough! We have a renowned guest here tonight.”  
Everybody turned to look at the witcher.  
“Perhaps he can declare which esteemed lord is telling the truth.”  
“Neither!” he spoke, earning him an offended call from one of the lords. “Are you calling me a liar, old man?” the lord who started the fight said.  
“The Butcher of Blaviken bleats utter nonsense,” the second lord remarked.  
Ooh, boy, watch it. If the setting was different he would be lying on the ground now. Geralt glanced at my brother, and I followed his gaze to see the bard shaking his head almost unnoticeably, a worried look on his face. Looking down, almost in defeat, but with an arrogant smirk, the witcher started speaking while lifting his head to look at the lords. “Perhaps the lords encountered… rare subspecies of manticore.”  
This caused the queen to laugh, while Jas let out a sigh of relief. ”Perhaps our esteemed guest would like to entertain us with how he slayed the elves at the edge of the world?” the queen laughed, mocking the witcher.  
“There was no slaying. I had my arse kicked by a ragged band of elves. I was about to have my throat cut when Filavandrel let me go,” Geralt confessed.  
The crowd murmured. “But the song.”  
Faintly I could hear my brother say “Yeah, the song.”  
Well, that song was mostly made up…  
“At least when Filavandrel’s blade kissed my throat, I didn’t shit myself. Which is all I can hope for you, good lords. At your final breath, a shitless death,” the witcher said, raising his pint of ale. And muttering into the pint he added “But I doubt it.” This caused the crowd, and me to laugh.  
“It would have been your blade at Filavandrel’s throat had you been there, Your Majesty,” one lord said, clearly flirting with the queen causing the crowd to cheer. “Not that any elven bastard would crawl from their lair to meet you on the field.”  
The queen smiled. “Any man willing to paint himself in the shadow of his failures will make for far more interesting conversation this night,” the Lioness said. “Come, Witcher. Take a seat by my side while I change.”  
Geralt wasn’t thrilled to have to leave the side of the room and sit upfront, but he bowed to the queen’s command and left my side.  
Well, I wasn’t so happy about this either, but there was nothing I could to, so I accepted my fate. With the witcher gone and Jaskier performing I was utterly alone, and the gods forbid that I mingle with all these nobles. Sure, a few men had noticed me standing so close to the witcher – and honestly, without bragging, I also looked stunning in my dress if you asked my brother – so sooner or later men approached me, questioning my about my relationship to the famous White Wolf. As our previous plan not to be recognized failed the second we stepped into the throne room, I didn’t make a big deal of hiding that for the last eleven years I’ve been traveling with the witcher, and that he taught me to fight. Some men were amazed by that: a woman who knows how to fight – incredible. Others dared to doubt my stories, or mock me for being able to fight, but these lucky bastards were the ones who then got a little taste of my abilities. Nothing more than a broken nose or wrist, but still very effective when it came to shutting up arrogant lords.  
Soon enough the feast began and everybody settled down to eat. To my relief Jaskier invited me to sit at the small table prepared for the musicians, and I was more than thankful for that, as I would have been utterly lost without him. We ate and joked, until a herald stepped up to the queen’s elevated table at the head of the room, announcing… someone.  
“Lord Peregrine of Nilfgaard.”  
The crowd booed at that. One man was blaring his bagpipes every time the lord wanted to speak causing the crowd to laugh and the queen to scold at the lord.  
“Make another sound, Draig Bon-Dhu, and I’ll have your guts sewn into pipes and sent to your mother.”  
I must say, I liked her. It’s not easy to be a woman in a profession dominated by men – I know that from my own experience – but she held so much authority, making some men cower away with just one glance. From what I’ve heard of her, she may not always be doing the right thing, but she cares for her kingdom and is a total badass.  
The lord with the bagpipes swallowed hard and put down the instrument, looking absolutely terrified.  
“Queen Calanthe,” the Nilfgaardian lord started. “My marriage to your daughter will unite the jewels of the north and the south, forging an unbreakable alliance that none would dare to cross. And… I’m one of five brothers with no sisters. My potent seed inside Pavetta will produce the strongest of male heirs.”  
The princess looked to her mother, shocked. Calanthe glanced at her daughter, and then addressed the Nilfgaardian lord who dared to talk about the princess in such an objectifying way.  
“Cintra is indeed the jewel of the north,” the queen stated arrogantly. “Yet Nilfgaard remains the shit rag of the south, and that’s saying something!”  
The crowd erupted with laughter and jeering.  
“Tell me, is it true that you drink piss water and feast on your own young?” the Lioness questioned mockingly.  
Laughter came from the crowd.  
“Nilfgaardian kings don’t remain kings for long. Who will take the Usurper’s crown? You? How long will you last? A year? A month? A day?”  
The queen’s mocking caused the crowd to cheer yet again. Mortified and offended the Nilfgaardian left.  
I have a feeling that this is going to bite Cintra in its ass sooner or later, and judging from the witcher’s face, he suspected about the same.  
The herald announced the next suitor. “Lord Steergart of Kaedwen.”  
Princess Pavetta looked scared, with tears in her eyes. I felt sorry for her. Being married off to a man for political advantages was one of the reasons I wasn’t jealous of anyone in her position. I valued my freedom, especially because of my childhood in the brothel. And I felt like the princess’s situation was pretty similar to being a whore, just that she has to marry whatever man her mother chooses.  
This continued for almost the whole evening. Suitors being introduced, claiming to be perfect for Pavetta and Cintra, promising a political advantage for both of their kingdoms and the queen mocking them.  
It wasn’t long before this charade was done and the time for dancing came, my brother now being fully in his element. His choice of song, though, shocked me, but with a quick glance at the queen, who seemed to be completely unfazed by the song, I calmed down.

“Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger,  
Come quell your daughter’s hunger”

The crowd was clapping along with the song and a few couples started dancing.

“To pull on my horn  
As it rises in the morn

For ‘its naught but bad luck  
To fuck with a puck  
Lest your grandkid be born  
A fairy young faun  
Bleating and braying all day, hey ho  
The fishmonger’s daughter, ba ba…!”

I, again, stood leaning against the wall, watching my brother perform, tapping my foot along with the rhythm of his songs.

Suddenly the guards at the entrance of the great hall were knocked down and a man clad in armor, including helmet, approached the queen.  
“Forgive my late intrusion, Your Majesty, and for the misunderstanding with your guards. Please! I come in peace,” the man said. “I need but one moment of your time.” He kneeled down in the middle of the room. “I am Lord Urcheon of Erlenwald, and I’ve come to claim your daughter’s hand in marriage.”  
The princess looked more terrified than before, while the queen’s expression turned stern, like she was suppressing a fire inside her from bursting, but the flames of her anger were visible in her eyes.  
“A knight… of no renown…” she was trying hard to control her voice, her entire body to not scream at the man. “From a backwater hamlet… who dares to enter my court without revealing his face?”  
“I apologize, Your Majesty. A knight’s oath prevents me from revealing my face until the sounding of the twelfth bell.”  
Something was off about this man, I could feel it, but there was no danger coming from him. In all these years of traveling with Geralt I developed a sense for threats; this man wasn’t one.  
One lord stepped up to the knight. “Bullocks to that,” he said, pushing the helmet off the knight’s head. The knight yelped as the sound of metal clashing on stone filled the throne room. The crowd gasped.  
The knight was covered in spikes. He looked like a hybrid of man and hedgehog. A curse, for sure.  
Geralt leaned forward in his seat next to the queen, watching the knight intently.  
The knight slowly rose from his kneeling state on the ground, a short growl leaving between his clenched teeth.  
The queen stared at him, while addressing my companion. “Witcher… kill it.” She said it so quietly, it was certainly only meant to be heard by the witcher, but from my position on the wall, close to the elevated platform, I heard every word that was exchanged up there.  
The witcher growled his answer. “No.”  
“Whatever the price,” pressed the queen.  
“This is no monster,” refused the White Wolf.  
“I order you.”  
“This knight has been cursed.” So I was right.  
“You’re as useless as the rest of them,” said Calanthe to the witcher. Then she yelled at her guards. “Slay this beast!”  
The guards unsheathed their swords and charged at the cursed knight, who easily blocked an attacking guard’s arm and knocked him out cold with one hit to the chest. Another was hit in the throat with an elbow and fell to the ground.  
“Lioness of Cintra, I come to claim what is rightfully mine!” The cursed knight said to the queen with an elevated voice once the little brawl was over with, his sword pointed at Calanthe. “Pavetta. By the Law of Surprise.”


	17. The Law of Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another long one.   
> enjoy :)

A gasp sounded though the large room. Everybody stilled, many of the lords had stood up and all were watching this cursed knight and the queen, waiting for their next move.  
I, too, was tense. Surely a fight would break out in the next moments, so I prepared myself to grab my daggers. I grabbed my skirt in the middle of its length and pulled it up, securing the fabric with my belt, so that the front part of my dress was only half length. That way I would not trip over the hem of the skirt, plus I could reach my weapons way better.  
The tension in the silent room was cut by the sound of metal dragging over metal, created by multiple swords being drawn. The royal guard.  
They charged at the cursed knight and he cut them down, one after the other. But more were coming, one with a halberd. The axe-like lance caught the knight’s sword in its spikes, disarming the knight, his weapon clattering on the stone floor. The guard with the halberd swung his weapon at the knight, hitting him in the face and throwing him to the ground, groaning.  
The queen rose from her seat.  
The guards gathered in front of the knight, ready to strike. The guard with the halberd raised the weapon and brought it down.  
“No!” wailed the princess.  
But the blow did not hit the knight. At inhumane speed the witcher rushed towards the scene, blocking the halberd, cutting through the wooden handle with ease. The knight on the ground caught the upper part of the halberd while Geralt cut down the now disarmed guard. The two men looked at each other in a silent agreement to fight together.  
“Kill them both!” yelled the queen, and the guards charged at Geralt and Lord Urcheon. The witcher sliced his way to the attacking guards in a manner that I can only describe as a dance. I’ve seen him fighting more times than I could count, but never against this many opponents. The way he made his way from guard to guard, cutting each down with a single move of his sword, hypnotized me. He had taught me how to fight like this, but I would need to practice for many more years, probably for more than I have left to live, to reach his level.  
I was ripped out of my trance by guests drawing whatever weapon they possessed to follow the queen’s command; to kill the witcher and the knight.  
Oh, no, no. That’s not happening, lads.   
Finally I pulled the first altogether four pairs of daggers – yes, a lady has to be prepared – from the holsters on my calf and took my place in the middle of the action.   
Another lord, the one who had previously pulled the helmet off the cursed knight joined the fight on our side.   
“The Law of Surprise has been called. You kill them… you kill me,” he said, head-butting an attacking lord in the nose and pulling a blade.  
The rest of the crowd charged at us, only a few people, mostly the ladies, Jaskier and Mousesack, remained at the sides of the room, staying out of the fight.  
With my daggers I sliced through the attackers. A few of them were slightly taken aback when they saw a woman fight, especially one with her skirt hiked up, so that the legs were visible, but as soon as they felt my blade pierce their skin they snapped out of it and collapsed on the ground. Quickly looking around I noticed a man charge at Geralt from behind, the witcher was currently preoccupied with three men in front of him, so I threw my dagger at the coward attacking from behind, my blade piercing his throat, and the man fell to the floor, gurgling. Having defeated the men in front of him and having heard the gurgling from behind him, the witcher turned, looking down at the man on the ground, noticing the dagger and looked up at me, giving me a short nod of acknowledgement. We both turned back to fight whoever attacked us, blades swinging. I only wished I had my sword, but the daggers will do.  
From the corner of my eye I saw the queen coming down the stairs, holding a sword. She walked up at the lord who had joined the fight on our side, lifting her sword ready to strike. And she did. But she did not swing at the lord, but at another man behind him. She went over to the witcher, his back turned towards her as he swung around, ready to strike at whoever he sensed behind his back. She held out her sword, blocking the potential blow that might come when the witcher turns, but he stopped himself, only a few inches separating the blades from one another.  
“Stop!” she said, directed to the witcher. And then she yelled it, directed at everybody fighting. “STOP!”  
I dropped my arms, the daggers hanging loosely in my hands.  
Everybody stood still, unmoving, in the exact position they stopped fighting.  
The princess ran down from the elevated platform and up to the cursed knight. “Duny!” she said while hugging the man. The crowd murmured.  
She knew this man? And didn’t say anything before we fought?! I mean, this little action was what this event had missed, but the fight was still unnecessary.  
“I told you to stay away,” Pavetta said to – how did she call the man? – Duny.   
The queen warily made her way to stand in front of the couple. Pavetta let go of the knight and he dropped his weapon, holding his hands out to the guards. A silent ‘stay back, I surrender’.  
He knelt down in front of the queen. “Your Majesty… the witcher speaks the truth.” He stood up. ”I was cursed as a young boy. My whole life a living misery until the day that I saved your husband, King Roegner, from a certain death. By tradition I chose the Law of Surprise as payment. Whatever windfall he came home to find… would be mine.”  
The queen was furious; the late king had sold their daughter off. “Oh, the stupid bastard. Better you had let him die!”  
“You knew he’d come,” commented the witcher. “And you pushed me to kill him.”  
Calanthe turned to her daughter. “And you, carousing with the beast that swindled your stupid father!” the queen screamed the last bit.  
The lord who had fought on our side interrupted. “’tis no swindle. Asking for payment with the Law of Surprise is as old as mankind itself.”  
The queen on the other hand interrupted him. “Don’t lecture me, Eist” she told him.  
“It’s an honest gamble,” the lord, Eist, continued. “As likely to be rewarded with a bumper crop as a newborn pup. Or… a child of surprise.”  
“He could not know,” said Duny during a short break.  
“Destiny has determined the surprise be Pavetta,” ended Lord Eist his explanation for the people – cough me cough – who weren’t familiar with this tradition.   
“When I heard that King Roegner had returned to find a child on the way… I abandoned all thought of claiming the law of Surprise. I knew… I knew no woman would ever accept me like this. And so I waited. I waited until the twelfth bell when the curse breaks. I never intended to meet her. Just to watch from afar.”  
And then the princess spoke up, for the first time. “Until destiny intervened… and our hearts collided.”  
“And at dawn, I awoke with her in my arms and me… like this.”  
Lord Eist stepped up to Calanthe. “Who are we to challenge destiny?” he whispered to her. “Life was saved, debt must be paid, or the whole order of the world falls apart.”  
“Honor destiny’s wish,” Mousesack chimed in. ”or unleash its wrath upon us.”  
But the queen would have none of that. ”There is no us! I bow to no law made by men who never bore a child!”   
Under different circumstances I would have agreed with the queen, but challenging destiny is a big deal, and she should for once not be so headstrong and listen to the voices of those who advise her.  
“Is there no a man amongst you who does not cower before destiny?” the Lioness questioned, her voice elevated, full of authority. “You, Witcher… who has known monsters of every fang and claw… are you afraid too?”   
“No. I’ve seen mothers lash themselves raw over the death of a child, believing they crossed destiny, ignoring the stench of the 50 other children in the plague cart outside. Destiny… helps people believe there’s an order to this horseshit. There isn’t.” Geralt answered. “But a promise made must be honored,” he added. “As true for a commoner… as it is for a queen.”  
Calanthe just sighed.   
“I love Duny, Mother,” Pavetta stated. “I will marry him. I will finally be free.”  
Silence.  
Everybody turned their attention to the queen, expectantly.  
Calanthe turned to Eist, tears in her eyes. The strong Lioness looked vulnerable. She handed the lord her sword and he took it from her. The queen smiled weakly at him, for only one second. Then she turned towards the couple in front of her, reaching out her hand for Duny to take. The guards around us now fully lowered their weapons.  
The queen stepped up close to the cursed man, whispering something into his ear. She stepped back a little and then everything happened so fast.   
She pulled a blade from a concealed department in her dress and raised it to the knight’s throat to cut it.   
The princess screamed. A long dragged out word. “No!”  
I can’t explain what happened next. All of us who stood around the couple were thrown back by an invisible force. It was incredibly strong. We were all gathered in the front of the room in one moment, and at the back in the other, our backs hitting the wall. The windows burst and a wind was circulating in the room.  
I had hit my head on the edge of a column and reaching out to the back of my head my hand came back bloody. Crawling to be somewhat save from any flying objects my senses grew dizzy and I think I passed out for a few minutes, because the next thing I remember was the queen was slowly approaching the couple standing in the middle of a circle of food and rubble.   
The queen hugged her daughter, almost collapsing in her arms, as the guards and guests slowly rose to their feet.  
“I thought your grandmother’s gift had skipped you… as it did me. It seems I was wrong. About so many things,” I heard the queen say as I made my way over to where Geralt was standing, trusting him to catch me, should I lose consciousness again due to my now pounding head. The bleeding had stopped though.   
“Destiny has spoken! And I have listened! The Law of Surprise will be honored. Pavetta will marry… Lord Urcheon,” the queen declared.  
“React poorly, and you won’t just face the Lioness, you will be facing the sea hounds of Skellige. Because Queen Calanthe has agreed to my proposal of marriage,” Lord Eist called out, stepping next to the queen, answering to the crowd’s murmuring.   
“There will be two vows here tonight! I assume that’s agreeable,” the queen stated.  
Some people in the crowd bowed their head while others nodded.  
“Delightful,” said Calanthe.  
And so a wedding was prepared. Servants came with boxes full of candles, handing each guest one. Everyone gathered in a circle around the middle of the room, the couple kneeling in the middle.  
I stood between the witcher and my brother, who was holding his new muse in his arms.  
I don’t how he does it, but he falls in love so easily – with everyone – while I see a potential threat in most people, always prepared to defend myself from a possible attack.  
The kneeling couple lifted their intertwined hands while the queen wrapped a piece of fabric around their hands.   
“Pavetta. Duny. With my blessing… I thee bind,” the strong queen’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and she smiled at the newlyweds.   
The couple turned to each other and kissed. Honestly, a very emotional and beautiful moment; I was trying to hold back tears.  
Suddenly Duny barked and growled, toppling over on the ground, tossing around, until, with a wheeze, a man straightened. The curse was broken.  
Excited he crawled back to his wife and happily they kissed again. Once they parted Pavetta spoke. “The twelfth bell has not yet rung.”  
“What has happened?” the queen inquired.   
“I think your blessing of this marriage… has fulfilled a destiny. The curse has been lifted,” explained Duny.  
Next to me, Jaskier spoke up. “Whew! I think this has the makings of my greatest ballade yet,” my little brother said, his voice catching in his throat. Was he crying? This hopeless romantic.   
“If you’re alive in the morning. Don’t… grope for trout in any peculiar rivers until dawn,” and with that, Geralt turned to leave, only to be stopped by a frantic call of “No, wait! Wait.”   
Duny scrambled to his feet, calling out for the witcher. “You saved my life. I must repay you,” he said.  
“You’ve proven yourself to be the kind of man who would do the same. I want nothing,” the witcher declined the offer.   
“No, please. Please, Geralt of Rivia, do not feel like you’re doing me a service. I cannot start a new life in the shadow of a life debt,” Lord Urcheon insisted.  
And the witcher finally gave in. “Fine. I… claim the tradition as you have, the Law of Surprise. Give that what you already have but do not know.”  
I feel like this is going to bite him in the ass.  
Queen Calanthe must have had a similar feeling. “No!” she called out. “What have you done, Witcher?”  
“Fear not, Your Majesty, if I am seen in your kingdom again, it’ll be to kill a real monster, not to lay claim to a crop or new pup. Destiny can go fu-“ but the witcher was interrupted by Pavetta gagging. The princess, still kneeling on the floor, vomited.  
Oh no.  
Both the queen and Duny rushed to the princess, and the queen reached her hand out to lift her daughter’s chin. “Pavetta,” she spoke. “Are you… oh.”  
The girl was pregnant. Another Child of Surprise.  
The three nobles turned to the witcher, just like about everyone else in the room.  
But Geralt only said one word before turning and leaving the room. “Fuck.”


	18. I'll Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope this doesn't suck too bad, I was struck with minor writer's block and this is all I could come up with.
> 
> hope you'll enjoy :)

Mousesack rushed after the witcher, and so did I, but I kept my distance, stopping right at the huge double door.  
Geralt pulled his sword out from a chair. It probably had got stuck in there due to the whirlwind the princess had somehow summoned.  
“Clearly the girl has access to immense primal power,” started the mage.  
“Yeah, and with no idea how to control it,” sounded the gruff voice of the witcher.  
“I’m gonna stay. Guide her,” stated the mage, causing the witcher to sigh.  
“You’re a good man, Mousesack,” said the witcher, turning to leave once again.  
“You should stay too,” called the old man.  
But Geralt refused. “This has been enough partying for me,” he said, showing one of his rare smiles. “I’m getting out of here. Alone.”   
Did he know? Hidden, I listened to their conversation.  
“You’re bound to this now, Geralt. Whether you like it or not.”  
“I’m not for changing. You know me better than that.”  
“Yes, I do, but you can’t outrun destiny just because you’re terrified of it. It’s coming, Geralt. Not believing won’t change that.”  
“Bullshit. This was just a girl using her magic to stop her mother from gutting her lover. Nothing more.”  
“So you say. But the bond that will come into being between you and this child… when it is born, will be extraordinary. If you dismiss it, leave without claiming this… child surprise, you will surely unleash true calamity upon us all.”  
“I’ll take that chance. Mind yourself. True words are rare birds in courts like this. Watch for daggers in your back. Or, more likely, poison. Be careful, old friend.”  
And with that I heard heavy footsteps walking down the hallway.   
I rushed out of the place I was hiding and ran behind the witcher. “Wait!” I called out, but he wouldn’t listen. Turning around a corner I finally caught up with him.  
“If you won’t stay, I will,” I started. “I may not appease destiny, but with your training I can at least protect them.”  
“Don’t tell me you believe in that crap,” Geralt sounded frustrated.   
“I didn’t. Until the day you saved me. I feel like we were destined to find each other, just like I feel I was destined to stay here now. Listen, I know you don’t believe in destiny, hell, with our job, I know I shouldn’t too, but I do. And I wouldn’t leave you and my brother if I didn’t think this is important. But it is,” I ranted.   
Geralt looked down at me, smiling. “I know. But you know that I can’t stay.”  
“Yes. I know. Monsters, your responsibility… you can’t just leave that behind, I understand,” I mumbled.  
He pulled me into a hug. “I’m proud of you, Nienna. You’ve come so far since we’ve met. I fully trust you to protect them. Take care of yourself, little one. Goodbye.”  
The hug ended abruptly and I couldn’t stop the tears from springing into my eyes. I watched the Geralt leave until his blurry figure disappeared behind another corner.  
I made my way back to the throne room, seeing the mage still standing outside.   
“He really isn’t coming back, is he?” he asked.  
I shook my head, wiping away a few stray tears that managed to spill from my eyes. “No,” I croaked out. “But I’ll stay.”  
“You?” the old man said in disbelief.   
“Yes. Geralt trained me. For the last eleven years we’ve been traveling together. I may not be what destiny wants, but I feel like I’m needed here. I feel like I have to stay here and protect the child, until one day, Geralt makes up his mind,” I explained.  
“Well, if you say so,” the mage agreed. ”You can discuss this matter with the Queen and King once the ceremony is over. But how I see it, you can be trusted, seeing that Geralt of Rivia, a man who trusts almost nobody, trusts you.”  
I smiled. Seems like I’ve already got an ally at this court. “Thank you,” I whispered as he led me back into the throne room and to the queen and the new king.  
“Your Majesties,” he said, bowing, signing me to do the same and I curtsied. “This young Lady has been traveling together with the Witcher,” he introduced me.  
“And what about her?” asked Queen Calanthe.  
“Your Majesties, my name is Nienna. I’ve been trained by Geralt of Rivia for over a decade, hunting with him side by side. If you will have me, I offer my service to protect the Child of Surprise. Seeing that a witcher trained me, my abilities could be a useful addition to your Royal Guard,” I delivered an explanation.  
“She can be trusted,” added Mousesack.  
“Right. And you’ve given us a taste of your skills already. Very impressive for a young girl like you,” agreed the new king.  
“Oh, my Lord,” I said chuckling. “I’m not that young. I’m 32 years old, my brother and me simply cannot seem to age.” I mentioned at Jaskier, still with his new muse in his arms, oblivious to the decision I had just made.  
“Very well,” declared the queen. “You can stay. But for now we want to celebrate, so we will discuss this in the days to come.”  
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do my best not to disappoint,” I said, curtsying and leaving to make my way over to my brother. He had to know.   
I stepped up to him, an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I knew this was what I had to do, but it still wasn’t easy.  
“Jas,” I said, trying to keep my voice from breaking, which almost succeeded.   
“Nienna!” he exclaimed, a grin on his face. “Here, meet my new muse, Countess de Stael,” and turning to the woman he added. “Sweetheart, my sister, Nienna.”  
I smiled briefly at the Lady and nodded, just so long to not be considered rude, not that I cared really, but for my brother I wanted to make a good impression. Then I turned to Jaskier, my tone hushed and serious.  
“Jaskier, we need to talk,” glancing at the lady still in his arms I added. “Alone.”  
“Why are you so serious? This is a party!” he said, but was silenced by me raising an eyebrow at him.   
“This is important, Brother!”  
“Alright, alright. Okay. Sweetheart, if you’ll excuse us for a moment.”  
I pulled him to the side into the colonnade, where we had at least a little privacy.  
“Jaskier,” I began. “I will stay here. I will stay to protect the child. I feel like I have to stay here until Geralt makes up his mind and comes back to claim the child. I… I feel like this is why I met Geralt in the first place; to be trained and then be there for people when he cannot. I feel like this is my destiny,” I rambled while he just listened, an expression on his face that I couldn’t entirely read. It was a mixture of sadness, confusion and something else.  
“But… but what will happen to all the adventures? All the monsters you have to kill and the songs I have to sing about them? You are a monster-hunter, not a soldier or a bodyguard; you’ve said it yourself, yesterday, remember?” my brother pleaded with me, but I had made my decision.   
“Listen, Geralt left, he’s already gone. He would have left us behind one way or another. Surely we would have crossed paths sooner or later, but for now he wants to be alone. And you? You have found a new muse. Surely you will stay with her for a while. And I’ll be left alone. And without you or the witcher I am no one. This is my chance to become somebody, you know, to be a person whose reputation does not depend on the men she travels with. And if destiny really unleashes hell for that child, it needs someone to protect it. Someone who is trained better than the palace guards.   
Jaskier, this decision wasn’t easy for me either, but I really have to stay. I will miss you and Geralt, but this is what I have to do,” I explained.  
“Alright. That’s true. I’ll miss you too. But don’t think I won’t visit!” Jaskier finally gave in.  
I smiled at my younger brother fondly. “I know you will.”  
Tears sprung to my eyes suddenly, now that reality sank in; in one night I had made a decision to leave my family behind, and I don’t know when I’ll see them again.  
“Hey, Nienna! Cheer up; the night is not over yet. I won’t leave you so soon. Come,” Jaskier encouraged me, pulling me into his arms and squeezing me tightly. I buried my face in his chest, a few tears slipping from my eyes. As we finally parted I wiped them away with the sleeve of my dress.   
We went back to where the Countess stood, and the three of us spent the rest of the night together. I told her slightly embarrassing stories of Jaskier being on hunts with the witcher and me. She was a good match for my brother and I hoped their relationship would last longer than a few days, I knew my brother would be safe if he stayed with her, now that neither Geralt nor I were there to protect him.   
As the sun rose we bid our final goodbye for a long time and I started a new chapter of my life.


	19. A New Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long-ass chapter to make up for the long-ass wait. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

That afternoon I was summoned before the queen. I once again explained to her why I felt like I was needed and she let me stay, saying that after seeing the witcher mowing through her guards as if they were straw puppets, someone with the witcher’s skills was needed at her court, to maybe assist training her Guard as well as being a silent warrior in the shadows.   
I was assigned a room close to the hallway of the royal chambers so that I could always be in reach should I be needed.   
I was glad that she saw reason and let me stay, seeing that she – when it came to politics – was too proud to be advised.   
A few days later a herald arrived from the town we – that is Geralt, Jaskier and me, plus the horses – had stayed in before we made our way to the capital, delivering my clothes, which my brother had sent away to be washed. He had arranged for them to be brought to the castle. I smiled fondly at my brother’s gesture, sending a silent ‘thank you’ to wherever he may be.   
I already missed both men. Especially the moments when we would just sit together and annoy each other – or more like Jaskier would annoy Geralt while I was laughing my ass off. Fuck, I really loved my two idiots.  
***  
The years were uneventful. Until the day that we received word that the princess and her husband died at sea, six years after the banquet, leaving little Princess Cirilla orphaned at the tender age of five.  
I was made her bodyguard, always watching the little child from the shadows, standing guard in front of her door. I was told not to interact with the child – by the queen herself – to keep her bond to the witcher secret. But, as Princess Cirilla grow older and more curious in her otherwise sheltered upbringing, she came up to me and asked me all sorts of questions. Queen Calanthe allowed me to tell the girl stories of my adventures with the witcher; as long as I did not mention his name or that they were bound by the Law of Surprise. So I told her how he saved the striga, how he defeated various monsters, but the child’s favorite story was the one of me saving my brother from the hellhound.  
I often asked her “Why?” and she always replied. “Because you are a hero, you could have run, but you jumped in front of your brother and saved him.” This girl was so naïve, plus she had never seen Geralt in action, and if her grandmother had a say in it, she never would. He was the hero, but he didn’t like being called one – now I finally understood why. “I almost died,” I would tell her over and over again. “If it hadn’t been for my brother and the Witcher I would have bled out like a slaughtered animal. I had to rely on the two men for two weeks after that. That is not heroic.”  
But the young girl would only shake her head. “You were ready to sacrifice yourself for your family. That is heroic.”  
There was no arguing with the child, but every time I remembered that day I felt pathetic. If I had heard the beast only a few seconds earlier I could have slain it without being bitten.  
She also often asked why I wasn’t married. And I told her every time that I hadn’t met the right one yet, or that I couldn’t have a man with my job – protecting her. I couldn’t tell her the truth. That after being abused as a whore from the day I was fourteen I simply couldn’t be in a relationship with a man that was, that I didn’t trust any man who wanted more than to be a friend, always scared to be used again. To be completely honest, Jaskier and Geralt were the only men I’d trust completely. I was always wary around other men.  
***  
Years passed and we heard of Nilfgaard uprising in the South, conquering more and more of the southern kingdoms and pushing north.  
Queen Calanthe sent me to lead more troops to the southern border to push back the Nilfgaardian armies should they dare to attack Cintra.   
I had barely returned when the old court mage came rushed towards me, telling me that Geralt had sent word. He was here and wanted to meet his old friend.   
I wanted to drop every responsibility I had in that moment and follow the old man, still carrying my weapons and wearing my old clothes from when I traveled with the witcher – they were so much easier to travel in than the dresses I was required to wear at court, but he told me to stay, to do what I was here for.  
So, I went to my chambers, quickly changed and reported to the king, as the queen was currently out. He then sent me to go to her and be the silent guard in the shadows that I’ve been in the last fourteen years; silent, hidden, and should somebody attack the royal family, deadly within a few seconds. Yes, I had made myself quite a reputation, even though nobody, except the royal family and confidants, knew my name or even what I looked like. Even the guards in my charge didn’t know that the person who had executed an attacker to the queen one second after he had made his first move and the one leading them was the same – me.  
I found her in the courtyard, surrounded by her official guard, and hid in a corner from where I could overlook the entire place.   
Though I knew he was coming, my heart almost stopped as I saw the witcher approaching, led by Mousesack. He hadn’t aged a bit, I noticed, I mean, he was a mutant, so what did I expect, but one and a half decades of not seeing him, I don’t know, I just expected him to be a little different. But he wasn’t, he was even wearing his old leather armor.   
The queen’s guards drew their swords as they saw the two men approaching. I did as well, but not to attack the witcher or defend anyone from him, no, if it was to come to a fight I would be on the side of my friend.  
“I warned you about coming back,” Calanthe hissed at the white-haired man.   
“I’ve been away twelve years and I’d planned on staying that way… till you sent eight men to kill me,” Geralt replied coldly.  
She did what?!   
“Well, I’m asking you now. Do not do this,” the queen more or less commanded.  
“If you treated me more like a friend than a threat… Do you know the difference anymore?” the witcher’s words were cold, his voice a growl. “I’m here to protect the girl.”  
So he had finally seen reason.   
“Who I’ve raised as my own. Why would I give my only heir to someone who never cared enough to come back for her? To someone who left a girl here to do what he should?” the queen spat.  
Hey, I staying here was my decision and mine alone!   
“Move along, Witcher. I’ll pay whatever you want.”  
“I can’t be bought. You should remember.”  
“Money can’t undo the Law of Surprise,” Mousesack chimed in. “Kings who’ve tried to outbid end up on pikes.”  
“And if I win the war but lose Ciri, what victory is that?”  
“Maybe that army won’t come, and if they do, maybe you’ll be ready. But if you have any doubt in your mind that she’s safe here, give her to me. Call it destiny, security, what larger forces at work, I don’t care. I will take her, protect her, and bring her back unharmed, I promise you that.” All I was asking myself was why did he change his mind? In whom did he lose trust? Me? Or the queen?  
“Ciri is all I have left of my daughter,” Calanthe whispered.  
“If Ciri survives, then Pavetta lives on too,” the witcher argued.  
Queen Calanthe took a deep breath. Then she announced “Law of Surprise has been called,” and quitter she added. “I’ll tell Cirilla myself.”  
A tiny signal from the queen caught my attention – she was signaling for me to follow her. And I did as commanded, moving like a shadow along the wall.  
“She’s on the upper courtyard. Watch her!” she ordered.   
“Your Majesty, shouldn’t I escort her to your chambers? Law of Surprise and all…” I asked, unsure what she was up to. She wouldn’t dare to trick the witcher, or would she?  
“No, you watch her and let me deal with the rest,” her voice was firm and commanding.   
I bowed my head. “Yes, my Queen.”  
“Should you even think about telling your friend, you’ll be executed. Understood?” she threatened as she turned to me one last time before marching off towards her chambers.  
I nodded curtly. She can’t execute me if she can’t find me; and if I were to tell Geralt of her plan, I certainly would not stay here and wait. Not that I would disobey her – for now.   
I found the young princess where the queen had told me she’d be, playing with her friends and wearing her disguise: pants, a doublet and a hat that hid all of her hair. As I got there she saw me and I held a finger to my lips. She knew that she shouldn’t show any sign of recognition, that somebody was watching, but we had made this our sign that she knew I was on duty, that I was indeed watching and protecting her and not just there because I felt like strolling over the courtyard.   
Minutes passed, maybe half an hour. Ciri was playing with the other children and I was watching, ready to jump into action should anything happen, my hand resting on the handle of my sword as I stood in a shadowy corner, eyeing the whole courtyard.  
A girl in a dark velvet dress came running up to the group of playing children. She hugged two of the boys and curtsied to the princess. She must be the girl Calanthe chose to send away with Geralt. A fake Ciri. The queen’s plan was stupid and it could upset destiny even more if the witcher should not realize he’s been cheated.  
But he realized.   
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure stepping out of a door. He had white hair and black leather armor. He saw everything. How the girl ran up to the other children, how she bowed to the princess. Even though his face was nearly empty of any emotion, I knew my old friend well enough to know that on the inside, he was fuming. I moved ever so slightly, stepping out of the shadows, my movements catching his attention and he looked at me, his eyes widening the slightest bit in surprise as he saw me for the first time in fourteen years. I wanted to go to him and talk to him, but I couldn’t. I shook my head at him and turned back to watch the princess, who, in turn, had turned her head towards the witcher, but when I followed her gaze back to my old friend, the spot where he once stood was empty.  
I could only imagine him stomping up to the queen and confronting her. I would pay a good amount of coin to be there, but I had to watch the princess. I was on duty, for crying out loud! But… there are so many other guards. Also some from my squad – I had trained them, so they should be enough. But my sense of duty won. The girl was the reason I stayed here in the first place, I could not abandon my duty now that my friend was back, seeing that the queen was not willing to let him protect the princess instead of me.  
A guard on a horse approached the princess, telling her that she needed to come with him. Right! The knighting ceremony. Surprisingly I was not summoned there. Instead a guard from my squad came up to me and told me that I should go to the dungeons. He knew about my past with the witcher. I had told my squad a little bit of my life after they asked me where a woman learned to be a better warrior than some of the best guards.  
Puzzled I went there, only to see that my friend had been locked up. Honestly, I’m done with this kingdom, once I know the girl is safe, I’m out of here.  
The witcher looked up as he heard my footsteps, his expression unreadable. Did he think that I had something to do with this?  
“Open,” I ordered a guard, “or better yet, hand me the keys and leave us alone. I will call you when I’m done here.” My voice was full of authority. Authority that I had gained in my time here. Sometimes it felt weird to use that voice when I remembered where I came from…  
“You’re not here to let me out, are you?” the monotonous voice of the witcher broke the silence as the guard was finally gone.  
I smiled sadly, “I fear not, my friend. It’s – uh – nice to see you though.”  
“Hm.” He finally looked at me, a hint of betrayal in his eyes. “You knew, didn’t you?”  
I looked to the ground, suddenly feeling ashamed. I had never before lied to him. “Yes,” I said quietly, “but I didn’t know that they’d throw you in here. I swear to you, I was only doing what I was told: watch over Ciri and stay out of your way. Calanthe would have me executed if I had told you.”  
“As if that would have stopped you.”  
I looked up at him. He was smirking at me and I couldn’t help but mirror his expression.  
“Sue me for not wanting to live my life on the run,” joked at him causing the smirk on his face to widen into a full smile. I had missed him like this – the man who had saved me, who became my best and only friend, the man who had unknowingly reunited me with my family. Speaking of which…  
“Hey – uh – where did you leave my brother? Shouldn’t he be here singing songs about you uniting with your destiny?” I was still laughing, but really, where was my brother?  
Geralt’s expression on the other hand fell.  
“What happened?” I urged him.  
Sighing he answered, guilt and regret darkening his handsome features more than the dim light of the dungeons ever could, “We had a fight. I said some nasty things to him and told him to leave me alone, once and for all. I didn’t mean to, it was just – ugh – I was so frustrated with myself and I couldn’t control myself.”  
I sat down opposite of him, leaning against the wall, stretching my legs and crossing them. I would not get up until he told me the entire story.  
“Care to elaborate?” I asked him firmly, he did after all tell my younger brother to leave, even though he knew about that man’s habit of getting into trouble.  
With a deep breath the witcher filled me up on everything that I had missed in these fourteen years. The djinn, the sorceress Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt’s wish, the dragon-hunt, how he and Yennefer broke up and how he was so frustrated that he told my brother that everything was the bard’s fault.  
I listened without interrupting. Once he was done I nodded. “Hmm, seems to me like you fucked up big time, my friend.”  
He glared at me – if looks could kill…  
“I know that, Nienna,” he growled.  
“You know, you can’t keep pushing everyone you love away. Jaskier was trying to cheer you up. You know him! That is how he deals with sad people, for crying out loud! He only wanted to cheer up his friend, who obviously just suffered his first heartbreak, and you… you cast him away for that!” I was angry at the witcher. What he did was most stupid. Only the gods know what my brother is doing now, or if he was still alive. This man had his way for getting into trouble.  
I took a deep breath to calm myself down and got up.  
“I missed you, Geralt.” And with that I left his cell and locked the door, walking up to the waiting guard and handed him the keys. “Back on your post,” I ordered.   
I went up to my chambers and got dressed for the night. Laying in bed my mind was reeling. Was my brother safe? How long until Nilfgaard reached the city? Could we win a battle against Nilfgaard’s army? Was it true that they used mages in battle?  
Some of these questions would be answered in the coming days.


	20. War

The next morning I woke up to yelling and clattering of metal out on the courtyard. I went over to the window to see what was going on, but part of me already knew. The army was preparing for war. Turning away from the window I grabbed my own weapons, ready to join the men, as a sharp knock on the door interrupted my actions. The knock was demanding, and whoever had knocked did not wait for an answer. The door opened before I could even open my mouth for a reply.   
It was the king. Accompanied by two soldiers he walked into my room. Upon noticing the weapons in my hand he said, “No, you’ll stay here. Protect the girl for as long as you can.” I only nodded, setting my sword, quiver and bow down on my bed.  
After a moment of silence he added, his voice less authoritarian, “Should we lose and Nilfgaard come here, you are free to go, you are not bound to this place. But as grandfather I beg you, keep Cirilla safe.”  
I nodded again. “Yes, Your Majesty. I will do my best, but I cannot promise you anything.”  
“Thank you.” This was no king talking, but a man concerned for his family. “Should everything go wrong, take her to the witcher and run as far away as you can.”  
I bowed my head. “I will.”   
And then he left. Little did I know that the king would not return from the battlefield.   
I got dressed in my clothes from before I stayed here, my leather armor being way better suited for the situation as it was just so much more practical than the stupid dresses I had to wear here.  
The army left and I was assigned to guard the hallway of the princess’ chambers. She had the mage and another guard protecting her in her chambers, so there was no need for me to be inside. Yeah, sure…  
Two days passed without a word from the battlefield. On the third day the army returned, alongside a badly wounded queen.  
I was called to her chambers just moments after the princess rushed inside. Calanthe was laying on a bench with the young princess kneeling beside her.  
“Cintra is under attack.” I heard the queen say.   
Fully armed as usual, I went to the big window to see for myself. And was shocked at the sight. Thousands upon thousands Nilfgaardian soldiers were marching up to the castle gates. Parts of the city were already in flames and the attackers were cutting down everyone and everything in their way.   
Mousesack joined me at the window, calling out to the queen, ”They’ve reached the gate.” Then he created a magical force field to block the enemies from breaking through the castle gates as well.   
Cirilla came up behind us. “What are you doing? How long will it hold?”  
“As long as I hold,” answered the old mage.  
“Can it be pierced from this side?” I asked him, already grabbing my bow from my back.  
He nodded.  
I let my first arrow fly, hitting a soldier in the neck. He collapsed on the ground, lifeless.  
“I need more arrows!” I called out, hoping that some guard might hear it and supply me with the weapons that could decimate the enemy from distance.  
Hours passed, it grew dark and I was firing on arrow after the other – luckily somebody had heard me shout for more arrows so that I had plenty of them now – killing one Nilfgaardian soldier at the time. By now I must have fired over five hundred arrows or so, but I was not really counting.  
Soon enough the Nilfgaardians had as well brought forward their archers who were currently firing burning arrows at the force field.  
Next to me the old mage began to falter and the force field dissolved as more and more burning arrows were shot into the castle’s gate.   
The enemy cheered and charged at the gate, breaking it down without a problem. I remained at the window, firing one arrow after the other at the approaching army.   
The two men in the room left, sent away by the queen. She called me to her. “Nienna, there’s not much you can do here now. Go!” she whispered, her voice strained. I nodded.  
I gathered all my weapons, filled my quiver with more arrows and turned to go. In front of the door I stopped and turned towards her. “Farewell, Your Majesty. It was an honor serving you. And for you, Princess, I know we will meet again.”  
Then I left. I could hear Ciri calling out from inside the room as the guards closed the doors behind me, “Where are you going?”   
‘To war, young girl,’ I thought as I drew my sword from its sheath on my back and pulled a dagger from my hip.  
The courtyard was a bloodbath. Nilfgaardian soldiers were slaughtering defenseless citizens, women, children. I slayed as many as I could on my way to the stables – I simply couldn’t leave Vána here. I put on her saddle and bridle as fast as I could and mounted her, slaying as many enemies from horseback as I made my way out of the city. I think I’ve seen a flash of white hair somewhere in the crowd. ‘Geralt must have escaped his cell,’ was my first thought, but honestly, it could have been anyone.   
Cintra didn’t stand a chance, it had already fallen. It was no use dying here when the battle could be won somewhere else.  
And I knew exactly where Nilfgaard would attack next. They were pushing north; they had to come through Sodden.   
So I made my way there, riding through the night like the shadow I learned to be.  
I arrived at Sodden Hill after a week. The village had not yet been attacked, but it would be soon. I had offered my help to the people and they accepted gladly, but they, especially the men were underestimating my abilities, even though the smallest part of them had ever done more with a sword than seen one.   
After another day a group of about fifty or sixty mages arrived. Finally we stood a chance. Together with the villagers they prepared everything for the battle, mostly with magic. Filling bottles with pieces of sulfur and enchanting them, crafting more arrows, building bows.   
I could not help much, so I focused on my own weapons, sharpening the blades; I wouldn’t be that much of a help in battle if my weapons were useless.  
This went on for the whole day. In the distance I could hear the faint thundering of marching soldiers – they would be here by tomorrow morning.  
That evening I sat together with the mages and villagers, drinking, enjoying the calm before the storm. A young sorceress caught my attention. She was telling another sorceress about a striga in Temeria.   
“Well, we did.” I heard her say. “I enlisted a witcher. Geralt of Rivia. I often wonder where fate took him.”  
I stepped up closer to them.  
“Somewhere unpleasant, I’m sure,” the black-haired sorceress replied. “You should be weary of his kind. They’re so often disappointing.”  
I followed the auburn haired sorceress.   
“Hey! Excuse me! I – I couldn’t help but overhear you talking about a witcher,” called out after her.   
She turned. “Eavesdropping, are we?” she must think I’m one of the villagers.  
“I, uh, no, sorry. Force of habit. For the last decade I served as guard in Cintra,” I stuttered slightly.   
“I was just joking.” She smiled. “So, Cintra you say. For the last decade? But you don’t seem older than twenty-five.”  
Now it was my turn to smile. “Well, give it twenty-one more years and you’re right. I’m Nienna. I doubt that he mentioned me, but, at the time that you cured the striga, I was traveling with Geralt.”  
“You know him?”  
“Well, he taught me everything I know about combat, so I’d say so,” I grinned at her.  
“I’m Triss,” she told me, “and the grumpy one over there is Yennefer.” She pointed at the sorceress she had previously talked to.  
I looked at her, the raven-haired sorceress. “Yennefer… of Vengerberg?” I asked Triss. “The one and only,” she replied.  
“I, uhm, excuse me.” I stuttered to Triss as I went over to where the black-haired woman was sitting, the other sorceress had just left.   
“Uhh, excuse me, Yennefer. I, uhm, you don’t know me, but I want to say thank you. Thank you for saving my brother,” I rambled.  
She whipped her head around. Geralt had warned me that she could be unfriendly.   
“And who the fuck are you?” she asked me.  
“My name is Nienna. You saved my brother, Jaskier, from certain death. I wanted to thank you for that,” told her.  
“Hm, your brother is a damn pain in the arse, you know that?”  
I chuckled. “Well, you get used to that over time. Or I did. I can’t tell for the witcher.”  
She turned her head, facing me. “You know him too?” her voice was annoyed. I could tell why Geralt liked her so much, they were pretty damn similar.  
“Know him? This man has saved me from rapists, almost thirty years ago. He has trained me and I’ve been traveling with him for over a decade.”  
She took a sip from her ale, clearly not wanting to talk about him further.  
I ignored that. “You know, I don’t know what he wished for from that djinn, but he loves you,” I said as I got up and left.  
I tried to rest at least a little before the battle tomorrow. It would certainly not be easy, as it was thousands against – how many were we? - three hundred.


	21. Ends And New Beginnings

But rest was rare that night. A whooshing sound woke me up. A ball of flames lit up the sky as it came racing towards the keep. Suddenly it stopped I shot up to see what was going on.   
Yennefer had stopped the flaming ball with her magic as the people around us stirred from their sleep and started screaming. The sorceress directed the ball into another direction. It flew over the river and exploded. So it was true that Nilfgaard had mages in their army. Great, just… great. What am I doing here, exactly?  
“Get up! Everyone up!” I heard Yennefer scream and grabbed my weapons. “Move!” she yelled.  
Another fireball came rushing across the sky, but again, Yennefer averted the attack.  
And it was the last for the night. The real battle began in the morning.  
But many mages had fled during the night  
I watched as a thick fog spread in the forest. It was not natural. A Nilfgaardian mage was coming, I was sure of that.  
I stood with the villagers, at least at first, and prepared my bow. The thunder of the enemy’s footsteps grew closer and closer. I saw a blonde sorceress prepare her first shot and did the same, waiting for the command.   
The enchanted bottles filled with sulfur were thrown into the air, then sounded the command, “Now! Pull!” I let my arrow fly, aiming at one of the bottles. As the arrow hit it the bottle exploded into grey mist. I continued shooting until my quiver was empty. I know that I could get more arrows, but I’d rather fight with my sword.  
Suddenly the gate burst open and the fog from the forest came floating in, menacingly, clawing its way forward. I heard a call, “Take cover!” and ducked behind a wall. From where I was hiding I heard the hissing of arrows as they seared through the air, thudding quietly when they hit their target.   
What have I gotten myself into?!  
A hooded figure collapsed just at the gate. The Nilfgaardians were extremely close to us now.   
I ran out of the gate and slashed through every soldier within my reach. More and more were falling, on each side. I heard a call to get back into the keep and ran, almost bumping into Triss, who made her way to the gate and knelt down touching the ground. She was summoning roots out of the ground, knitting them together.  
I grabbed a bundle of arrows, pushing them down in my quiver and put my sword away. Soldiers were reaching for the auburn haired sorceress, trying to get her to stop. I shot my arrows at them, managing to keep at least a few away, until one of them got a torch and stuck it through the entangled roots, burning the sorceress. She screamed in pain and fell to the ground. I continued to fire arrow after arrow at the enemy, but they were far too many. The roots burned, soon even this gate would break.  
Two explosions threw me to the ground. What had happened? I was dizzy and my ears were ringing as I drew my sword. Everywhere lay dead people; men women, children. The gate was broken now.  
Yennefer came up behind me, clutching her stomach. She walked through the gate and I followed her, sword drawn and ready to attack anyone who may jump from the fog.   
I saw two soldiers, but before I could charge at them they were already on the ground. Yennefer had broken their neck with her magic. We made our way over the battlefield, slaying every Nilfgaardian soldier we came across. We were a good team for the time being.  
We had fought the whole day, it grew dark again and the battle was still not over.  
I followed Yennefer for the whole time, she needed to go somewhere, and I trusted her lead.   
She found who she was looking for, and went over to talk with her. I kept my distance, to give them the little privacy that was possible on the battlefield, and to protect them now that they were distracted.  
I fought a group of soldiers, slashing through them, but they were too many. One of them cut my leg and I screamed in pain. I swung my sword at them and finally there were no new ones coming and I had a chance to kill them all, now slower due to the not-that-shallow-but-not-too-deep cut on my thigh. I limped over to the kneeling sorceress – Tissaia I remember someone calling her. I collapsed on the ground next to her, clutching the wound on my leg. I tore off the sleeve of my blouse and knotted it around the wound, otherwise I would have bled out, I’m sure.  
Through the dark I watched as Yennefer made her way over to the rocks, climbing one. Then the whole plane was on fire, the flames pouring from the sorceress’ hands. I covered my face with my hands, and next to me Tissaia did the same. The fire vanished as quickly as it came. And with the flames vanished the raven-haired sorceress.  
Above me Tissaia called out for her, “Yennefer!” she yelled over and over again. And another voice, a familiar one joined in with the yelling.  
Weak from the loss of blood I called out for the witcher, my voice not louder than usually, but I felt as it I’ve never screamed louder, “Geralt!”  
I was not sure if he had heard me. I was not even sure if he was really there or just my oxygen-starved brain hallucinating. But then I saw him, or at least his silhouette, coming over towards me. Now I could really see him, and he saw me. “Help,” I whispered and lost consciousness.   
He picked me up and carried me to a cart; my brain was too hazy to notice the details. I remember a man asking, “Who is that?” and a grunted answer of, “A friend,” but nothing more until I woke up the next morning.   
The witcher was fixing the bandage on his leg while listening to a conversation. My brain was still swimming and I didn’t understand anything that was said. But he did. Suddenly he got up and walked away into the forest. I limped after him. That probably wasn’t a good idea, but I couldn’t think straight, sue me. A little voice in my head kept whispering, “Follow him. Follow him,” and I followed that.  
“Hey, Butcher! Butcher!” a man kept calling out behind us, but neither of us turned around. Geralt was drawn towards the forest, and I was drawn towards him. There was no turning back, no stopping, even though both of us were limping.  
After a while Geralt stopped, sensing or searching something. When he did not find anything, he turned around to leave, to go back the man who had called out for him earlier, but then he turned again and we both saw her.   
Princess Cirilla was running towards us – or more like towards the witcher – and he looked at her, wide eyed. She ran into his arms and they just stood there, hugging.  
“People liked by destiny will always find each other,” I heard Geralt say.   
Ciri pulled back from the witcher’s embrace and looked at him intently for a while, before asking, “Who is Yennefer?”  
“She disappeared,” I whispered. Ciri noticed me now. “Hello, Princess. I told you we would see each other again.”


End file.
